All the Wrong Things on Fire
by wants2beawriter
Summary: What happens when marriage, secrets, misunderstandings and money all ignite? Rated M. Epically awesome collaborative work with JannP.  Beta'd by tjcrowfoot and joshsgrl
1. Chapter 1

No, your eyes do not decieve you, I am posting yet another story (a collaborative piece with JannP); however, this one is quite different than anything either of us have ever posted (at least for this fandom). The story is very A/U as well as utterly angsty, so if you are not a fan of either, it is highly recommended that you not continue any further. This is a Finchel story, although it is a dark and disturbing one. No rape, violence, abuse, or drug use. Just different. Their "show" history never happened, so everything you read is AU.

The story is beta'd by two of the most fabulous writers out there...tjcrowfoot and joshsgrl. The story will be updated once a week or so (as everyone invovled has numerous other stories in progress).

Rated M for language, theme and sex.

Disclaimer: None of us own Glee.

Prologue

He really should have known better. Today had been a kick ass day. He had 3 successful meetings in which he stole a couple of clients making him another mil in commissions, he had a fucking fantastic quickie with one of his co-worker's secretaries (as he knew from bad experiences to never screw your own) and he had a date with a new wannabe actress, who would be willing to do pretty much anything he wanted for a couple of name drops, so yeah he shoulda have known something or someone was gonna go fuck it up for him.

He heard his secretary screeching like a banshee in the hallway, and if he heard it at top volume he could only cringe when he thought of the other partners hearing her. He tried reaching her 50 times through the intercom (he had to admit he was kinda scared it was an ex of some sort), but she didn't answer. Instead her voice just got louder and shriller and just when he finally decided to go out to settle whatever was going on, the blonde (who was a fine piece of ass, just sayin') stormed in his office waving her hands in the air wildly ranting about something. But no matter how many times he asked her to calm down and chill, she didn't. Rather, she gestured towards the door screaming then slammed her palms onto his desk before flailing even more. He shook his head and sighed. Yeah, he was so gonna need a secretary who wasn't so damned territorial and, well, insane.

He slid his leather chair back from his desk to see who was causing this insanity, but froze when he heard a very familiar, very melodic and very angry voice followed by a tiny spitfire in the door way.

"Oh for the love of God, just tell him his wife is here." He stared blankly at the woman standing before him. It couldn't have been her? His eyes must have been playing tricks on him because there was no way after 5 years she'd be standing there, so calm. No, she'd be throwing things at his head. $500 vases if he remembered correctly.

"Rachel?" He choked out as their eyes finally met and he mumbled a curse or two at not only how his body reacted, but at the electricity that seemed to still flow through them both. God, he should have known it was her.

"Finn." She replied softly, seemingly drawn into him the same way he was in her. It wasn't until his secretary hit his shoulder breaking their trance was he finally able to clear his thoughts, a little anyway.

"What are you doing here?" He managed to croak out right before his secretary stormed past Rachel.

"You're married?" She screeched at him then gave Rachel the once over, "To her?" He had to admit he was waiting for Rachel's possessive reaction (as she was always that way), but when she just nodded without any real reaction except for a slight sadness in her eyes he felt his stomach clench in response. "Why? Why would you be married to her?" His secretary asked, as if she could never imagine such a thing. To which he had all kinds of defensive comebacks, but Rachel beat him to the punch and not in a good way.

"We haven't been really married in almost 5 years, so you have my full permission to continue screwing my husband." He literally could have choked on his own bile. Yes, they weren't 'technically' together, yes, it was no secret he was screwing anything in a skirt (he was caught in the papers on more than one occasion) and yes he had been the one to throw her out 5 years ago, but they were legally still married. Didn't she feel anything? The blonde shook her head and made some snarky comment, but he couldn't be bothered with anything except the 5'2" brunette who stood before him looking the same as she had 8 years ago when he had met her.

"What are you doing here?" He asked again, this time trying to sound as distant as she appeared. She cleared her throat and gestured towards the empty chair.

"May I?" She asked formally, coldly if he wanted to be honest (which he really didn't) then took the seat. He took in her appearance. She was still tiny, but her hips had filled out slightly, her hair was a bit shorter, but otherwise she hadn't aged. She was just as beautiful as ever and for a split second his hand darted out towards hers, but then he was hit with all the painful memories of why they broke up in the first place and pulled it back. He noticed she was looking anywhere but at him, so didn't notice his slip and for that he was eternally grateful, but also felt the bitterness seep back in.

"I have asked you more than once what you were doing here, as I know it isn't to be in the presence of my winning personality. Or so you once said," he spat, then immediately felt his heart constrict when she looked up at him with tears and what looked like fear in her eyes.

"I…I need…" He found himself leaning towards her and his hands engulfing hers. God, how he hated that he couldn't seem to ever deny her anything when she cried.

"What? What do you need?" He asked hoarsely totally lost in her voice, her vulnerability, how her hands still fit perfectly in his.

"I need a million dollars." He sat rooted in place, frozen, her words echoing in his head like an empty cave and every time the echo bounced it took on a crueler, bitterer constricting sound. She wanted money? After 5 years of no contact, of nothing, she wanted money? That is when the reality hit and he dropped her hands and let out a cold laugh, expressing the full extent of the hostility he felt.

"You…you haven't spoken to me in 5 years after racking up thousands of dollars on credit cards and actually think I will give you money? Not just money, but a cool mil? Do you honestly think I am going to fall for your games again?" His words must have brought back her own memories because the softness he had seen a few moments prior was replaced with an anger and hatred that matched his own.

"Games? Me? Let's not forget who played who here? I _loved_ you. I went against my fathers' wishes and married you, _remember_? Then, just when…" She paused and he held his breath waiting for her to bring it up, but she just shook her head and changed her train of thought, "…when things got rough you said it was time to trade up for a younger model? Any of that ring a bell?" She growled through gritted teeth turning away which he assumed was so he couldn't see her cry, but it didn't matter. "And the money isn't for me. You made me leave with nothing except the clothes on my back, no funds of my own and pr…well, I didn't have any other alternative," she added softly, but the anger was coursing through him and there was no way for him to rein it in.

"Loved me? How dare you even say that to me? You don't know the meaning of the word!" She spun and he knew what was coming next by memory, so his hand immediately wrapped around her tiny wrist, stopping it before he could feel the sting.

"You fucking bastard. I gave you _everything_," she panted her eyes glazed over and he couldn't help but watch the rise and fall of her chest noticing that her breasts had filled out as well.

"You gave me everything?" He asked breathless himself his eyes scanning hers.

"Yes. You know I did." She said now in a breath of a whisper, her gaze resting on his parted mouth.

"Everything but your faithfulness." She shook her head sadly and tried pulling her hand away, but he found himself holding her wrist even tighter.

"I never cheated on you and deep down you know that, but none of that matters anymore," She said shakily, "it was over the day you told me to leave and never come back." He didn't know if it was her proximity after 5 years or the fact that she was the one woman who had gotten past his defenses only to destroy him from the inside and he wanted revenge or something, but he yanked her forward so her body which was trembling flush against his.

"It isn't over, not by a long shot." Then his lips were on hers. She struggled momentarily against his hold, but almost as quickly responded in kind. Her body melding against his, her free hand gripped his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her, pressing onto her lower back. Their tongues moved frantically in each other's mouthes, as if 5 years of longing and want finally bubbled to the surface like a volcanic eruption. She whimpered against his mouth and his fingers threaded into her hair, tugging gently, but enough for her to know what he wanted. She gasped his name when she tilted her head back so he could run his tongue and lips along the column of her throat, pausing to suck on her pulse point, almost hesitantly and unsurely. When her finger slid to the back of his neck he smirked against her skin and sucked almost painfully hard, bruising the soft skin beneath. She whimpered at the forceful contact and his tongue immediately soothed the now very tender spot before grazing the side of her neck. "See, not over," he whispered, before pressing a soft kiss just beneath her ear, stepping back and looking at her smugly.

"You…you asshole." She gasped wrapping her arms around her trembling body protectively when she saw his now cold yet smug expression.

"I may be an asshole, but I am an asshole who has something you want, now don't I?" Rachel shook her head and grabbed her purse off the chair.

"No, that was a momentary lapse in judgment. You have absolutely nothing I want." She went to run towards the door and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her to beg for forgiveness, but she was the one who cheated. She was the one who destroyed their lives. No, she owed him. She needed to hurt and feel broken and he was going to make sure she did.

"You might want to rethink that because I think I have a check that you want, very _very _badly. So badly you were willing to show up here to get it. So badly that I know you won't walk out that door until you hear my proposition." He watched as her fingers tightened on the metal doorknob, but didn't turn it.

"What is your proposition?" She asked tightly, not turning to face him.

"A weekend together as a married couple," he said coolly, but there wasn't any anger tainting his statement.

"We are only married by a legal contract; a contract that you refuse to relinquish me from." She sighed, her voice emanating the exhaustion she must have felt because he saw her shoulder slouch slightly.

"Yes, but that legal contract is still binding, and if we were to have a weekend as a married couple, I would want all the benefits that go along with that. " Her head fell and he knew he didn't have to say anything else.

"Why? If you hate me so much, why do you want to have sex with me?" He closed the gap between them and pressed his body firmly against hers, so she could feel how much control she still had over his body.

"Just because I hate you, doesn't mean I don't _want_ you. Are you going to deny you want me to?" Rachel remained frozen, impassive.

"I…I don't want you. It had just been a while since…" He spun her around and glared at her.

"Don't you dare lie to me and say you kissed me back like that because it has been awhile since you were with another man. I am not _that_ stupid." Rachel looked away and he took the opportunity to kiss her cheek, letting his breath fan across her now flushed skin. She still wanted him, physically at least. "Stop fighting it. It is a total win-win situation. I get you for the weekend and you not only get the million no questions asked, but I will give you the divorce, with a nice settlement." Rachel turned and they were so close their breath mingled.

"Why now? Why are you willing now?" He could have literally breathed her words, letting the question course through him.

"Closure. Nothing more." He saw her swallow. Either her need for the money or the need for him was too great, but he saw the last of her resolve fall away.

"Okay. A weekend and then we are done for good. No more manipulation, no more deals, no more sex…ever. We have a completely clean break. Deal?" Her words reverberated in his head, followed by a churning in his stomach and fiery pain that he thought he had snuffed out years ago burning through him limb to limb. _Done for good? Clean break?_ It didn't seem to bother her, but he was going to make sure he was the one walking away feeling whole, no pain and she would feel just as hollow and empty as he felt when she broke their marriage vows then left him shattered.

"Deal." She nodded and opened the door slowly. "Leave your cell number with my secretary and I will call you once all the arrangements have been made. Oh, and Rachel, one more thing."

"What?" She asked brokenly, her back still towards him.

"For the weekend, you are mine. No calls, no other men." She let out a ragged breath in response.

"What about you? Does the same thing apply?" He stood silent for a moment, not expecting her question, but he once again should have known she would demand the same in return. So he found himself once again yielding to her.

"Yes, the same will go for me. No calls, no other women." She nodded again.

"Thank you for the ounce of respect. I mean, you aren't treating me, your spouse, as anything less than a common call girl, so…"

"Well, if the shoe fits." He spat angrily. She shuddered and slipped out of the tension filled room, but not before whispering,

"What happened to the boy I fell in love with?"

He felt the words bubble in his chest, screaming that he was still the same person, but instead he remained silent until she was out of ear shot.

"You…you happened."


	2. Chapter 2

Wow, we are completely overwhelmed by the wonderful response to All the Wrong Things on Fire. It is a blast to write something so different. Thank you all for the fabulous feedback. With that being said, here is chapter 1. Chapter 2 will be posted sometime next week (assume closer to the end). Happy reading and until then...ducking and hiding.

Thank you to Ali and Laura for beta'ing. You both are awesome!

Rated: M (for content)

Disclaimer: No we do not own Glee

**Chapter 1**

She sat blindly starting at the itinerary that he had faxed over to the hotel for what must have been the past hour. He had everything scheduled down to water breaks and she wondered when he became so organized and meticulous, that used to be her role. Nowadays her life was anything but organized. She was lucky if she could get even get a load of laundry done in between doctor appointments and impromptu hospital stays. Yes, her life had become nothing more than chaos; however, she knew she wouldn't have traded a moment of the insanity if it had meant giving up a precious moment with her son.

She fell back on her plush bed and was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. Here she was in a lavish hotel, much to Finn's insistence that she upgrade to something he deemed worthy of their weekend, while her baby was probably dealing with another round of horrible after-effects of his treatment. She rolled over and pulled out her cell phone. She had to check on him, make sure he…make sure he was okay. She wiped away a few stray tears as she waited for an answer.

"How's he doing?"

"He's okay; been asking for ya. Guess my story telling ain't the same as his mommy's."

"It isn't and I miss him, too. Has he been holding down his medicine?"

"Yea, but I had to take him in last night."

"Wait, what? I…Oh, God…" She asked frantically, terrified and guilt-stricken she wasn't home for her baby.

"No, just chill. He seemed kinda puny, so I decided to take him in. They gave him fluids. Ya know, the usual drill. His favorite nurse was there. Flashed his dimples and got extra Jell-O." She sighed and slumped back on the bed. At least it wasn't a new complication.

"You are teaching him such bad habits, you know that?"

"Whatcha mean? He's gonna be a ladies man just like his..." He said, his voice trailing off, the words hanging in the air. She hated when he brought this up. It never ended well, but this time he continued without actually saying the forbidden name, "Speaking of you know who…has he given you an answer?"

"Yes, yes he has." She said begrudgingly. She didn't want to go into the details of his sordid arrangement.

"And? The insurance company has said they will cover us up to the cap, but we are still majorly short," he replied, and she could hear the desperation in his voice. It was the same fear that always present when she thought about their son's future. She needed to alleviate some of his fear. He was always the one there for her.

"I know and, well, he agreed to give me the money," she said in a breathy whoosh.

"Really? Did you tell him about Caleb?" She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"NO… no I didn't tell him anything. What would be the point? You know how things were left."

"Yea, but things are different now. His son may be dying. We need to tell him." She knew on some level he was right, but at the same time she had tried telling him. She spent months begging him to listen, begging him to give her a chance to explain what he so grossly over reacted to and misinterpreted, but it did nothing. He either ignored her or insulted her, so no; he didn't have a right to know.

"You…you are his father." She heard him draw in a sharp breath. He was Caleb's father.

"No, babe, I am his _Dad, _but Finn…he is his father and well I would hate it if…"

"That was his choice! If you hadn't had stepped in and put your name on Caleb's birth certificate I don't know what we would have done. He is alive because of you and so am I. You have been the best friend to me and really to Finn. You took me in when I was pregnant and alone. You took on a sick baby without any hesitation. You stepped up to the plate when you had absolutely no obligation to," she argued, now pacing the oversized suite.

"No obligation? He thought we were having some long term affair and wouldn't listen or believe either of us! He knew that long time ago before you two got involved that the idea of us as a couple had crossed my mind, so if it was anyone's fault that things worked out the way they did, it was 'cause of me!" She wanted to bang her head against the wall. She deplored his line of reasoning.

"Please stop. There is no reason to rehash any of this. Finn and I are in the past."

"No, you two are still hitched, so I think you are very much in the present," he replied, and she could hear the sadness in his voice. Granted, they weren't a 'couple,' and while they weren't sexually involved in any respect, they definitely were emotionally tied. She loved him, but not in the way that either one of them deserved. And while she knew he had developed feelings for her, most of them were directly linked to the fact that he had taken on the role of father and 'husband' almost overnight.

"Actually, after this weekend everything will be settled. He finally agreed to the divorce, so please, let's not discuss this any further."

"Wait, he agreed to the divorce? Why? Why after all these years? What aren't you telling me?" He asked pointedly. He knew when she was lying, and lying by omission was still a lie.

"Nothing, I guess just seeing me after all these years made him realize how much he hates me and wants to be rid of me, so…"

"I don't think he ever hated you," he answered softly.

"Trust me, he hates me. He made that very clear," she replied quickly, of course leaving out how he openly admitted to wanting her sexually.

"Well, if that is the case, why do you need to stay the weekend? Why not just come home to me and Caleb and let the lawyers get it all dealt with?" She knew she should have done just that. Said, no way in hell to Finn's proposition, but she didn't have any other options.

"You know I would if I could, but apparently he wants to go over all of the details in person." God, now Finn had made her a liar. "You know, to make sure we haven't overlooked anything. I promise everything will work out and I will be home Sunday night to tuck Caleb in."

"I just don't wantcha getting hurt again."

"I won't, trust me. Finn Hudson has absolutely no power over me. There is far too much at stake to get sucked back into any drama. He is giving me the money along with the divorce and then I can officially move on," she said, hoping that her words truly rang true, but the fact that not only had she welcomed, but returned his kiss, made her wonder, which was definitely_ not_ a good thing.

"I…we haven't talked about what happens to our family if…" She couldn't think about their future. There were far too many variables and heightened emotions in play, so she cut him off.

"I know, and right now isn't the time to get into it. I need to get ready. Finn and I have a…" She swallowed the giant knot that threatened to cut off her air supply as she tried to choose the best term to describe their impending 'relations'.

"A what?" He asked nervously. Again she swallowed, unable to clear the blockage.

"…a meeting to start the process."

"Okay, well my Ma is gonna come visit Caleb. She made him some of that soup he loves and my sister is gonna take him to a movie if he is up for it." She blinked back the tears and fought the urge to hyperventilate.

"Please give them my love and I will call you when I am headed home. Text me if anything happens. Promise?" She pleaded, hoping he wouldn't bring up the fact she hadn't said she would call.

"Yeah, yeah I promise. I just have a bad feeling about all this." He didn't, but knew something was wrong.

"Trust me, I am not thrilled either, but remember we tried telling him for years, but he just returned all my letters, wouldn't take your calls. This situation is just as much his doing as it is ours." She knew she was rationalizing, but the fact she was not only lying, but cheating as well, was killing her. The question that hung over her head like a stormy filled cloud was who was she truly cheating on?

"I know what you are sayin', but…" No, regardless of what she was doing, he was an amazing man, who had been there for her on numerous levels and she wasn't going to let him rethink his relationship with Caleb. Her little boy loved him, depended on him…that was the most important thing; not who's DNA coursed through his little weak veins.

"No, no buts. He is our son…Caleb Frederick Puckerman in every way that matters."

* * *

><p>An hour and several panic attacks later Rachel finally heard the dreaded sound of an electric key lock and a turning handle. She swallowed back her fear and sucked back her tears. She could do this. After all, she <em>had <em>shared her bed and her body with this man for nearly 3 years, so surely she could handle a weekend. Yes, one weekend and then she would be free. Free to save her son and free to move on from the hold he apparently still had on her.

"You're here." She said as flatly, trying to appear as impervious to him as possible, despite the painful pounding of her heart against her ribs.

"You didn't think I would be? We had an agreement," he said just as coldly, but she couldn't mistake the flecks of anger masked behind his impassive gaze.

"Right, an agreement." she said, nearly choking on the words. Even though they were no longer in love she thought he might have had an inkling of respect for her. But if he could do this, so could she. She cleared her throat and added, "So where do you want me? On the bed, wall, shower, desk or will any hard surface do?" She rattled, he winced and even she grimaced at the venomous tone in her voice.

"Stop!" He barked, his calm demeanor cracking slightly, making her wonder if he was having the same myriad of emotions as she was and not just anger, so she pushed.

"Stop what? You said this weekend was about sex in exchange for money, basically turning me, your wife…" When he scoffed and turned she grabbed his arm to force him to look at her, "...no, these are your rules not mine. I came to you because I needed your help, and you in turn spun that to your advantage and now what? You don't want to hear how vile and offensive your proposition actually is? Because if you do, that is fine with me, just please give me the money and the divorce and you never have to see me again."

"Right, so you can live happily ever after with my former best friend?" Even when she turned away he continued talking, "Oh, you don't think I know?" he said coldly, and her stomach clenched painfully. Had he been playing her the whole time?

"How…how much do you know?" She asked softly.

"Oh, so it's true. You two are still involved!" he growled, and she shook her head sadly.

"You were fishing."

"And it seems like I caught you hook, line and sinker, huh?" he spat back, tossing the bag which he had been gripping onto the chair. She glanced over confused and he added, "Oh, you didn't think that little piece of information was going to cause me to end our little arrangement, did you?" When she stared up at him he smirked and laughed, "You did? No, see that is the beauty of all of this. You cheated on me with him and destroyed our marriage and now…"

"Now what?" she asked when he paused and pulled her by her wrist towards him, lowering his lips to her ear.

"Now, I get to be the one who destroys your relationship with him." She didn't move. She didn't even breathe, because she felt like every ounce of air had been completely sucked out of the room like a vacuum. "Nothing to say?"

He suddenly released her and stepped back and she gasped. The air that had been sucked out seemed to painfully rush back into her as if she was the center of a vortex. She stumbled back in shock.

"This…this is…revenge for you?" She finally whispered then looked up, daring him to look her in the eyes. For just an instant she thought she saw a flash of hurt and guilt in his eyes, but as quickly as it appeared it vanished behind the cloud of lifelessness.

"Yes, part revenge and part closure. I figure it really is the best of both worlds."

"I…I don't understand what you mean by closure? You ended things with me. Not the other way around."

"Please, you ended things the minute you took my best friend, our best friend to bed. Our bed."

"I…I didn't. I tried to explain it to you…"

"ENOUGH!" he shouted, and she saw all the hurt, anger, fear and betrayal shining brightly in those once warm and loving eyes. Eyes that she could get lost in, eyes that always revealed his true emotions before he learned to guard himself so well and instead of wanting to run or fight, all she found herself wanting to do was to hold him and never let go, but he was too upset to notice.

"I was there! I saw you…both of you, half-naked in each other's arms. I may be slow, but I know what I saw!" The pain in his voice was so raw and fresh. She wondered if he relived it every day the same way she did.

"No, I swear to you, nothing _ever_ happened. It was innocent and…"

"Still spewing the same garbage, are you? It didn't work then and it sure as hell won't now." She wrapped her arms around her waist when he stormed towards the bathroom and cringed when he growled over his shoulder, "Oh, and any damned hard surface will do just fine."

When she heard the shower start running Rachel debated running. It wasn't as if they had a truly binding legal contract. Actually, whatever they were doing she was sure would get them both arrested, so it was unlikely he would ever try and force her to comply. No, she could go home and never have to think about any of this again, except she would have to watch her son waste away knowing she gave up the money he needed because of her pride. She sat on the edge of the bed knowing that as vile as this was going to be, she had to go through with it, but how many times? How many times was she going to have to endure him making love to her while despising her? She glanced towards the shut door when the water turned off and shivered at the thought. What if it were bad? Would he want to continue? Maybe, if she just lay there, completely unresponsive, he wouldn't want it again? She could do that, couldn't she? She had control over her body and its reactions. Yes, she could and would.

She pulled her shirt over her head, followed by her skirt, underwear and bra then climbed onto the bed. As she slipped under the covers she sighed sadly realizing that there was no need to foreplay or gentle touches and caresses. They wouldn't share any of those moments when they would look into one another's eyes as they made love, proving how they were not only physically connected but emotionally as well. This was just sex, not love, and she wasn't sure which made her sadder.

Even though the shower had ended Finn hadn't emerged from the bathroom and Rachel debated knocking to see if he was okay, but decided it would have sent signals that she was actually looking forward to this and she wasn't. So, she instead she pulled her cell phone out of the night stand drawer and scanned the text messages for anything new. She felt her knees weaken, grateful she was already in bed when she saw Noah's latest text.

_Took C back to the hospital. I'll call u when I know something_

She felt the tears sting her eyes and knew that there wasn't a lot of time left, furthering her resolve to follow through with this insane plan. Her son needed the medical treatment and she'd do anything to make sure he got it.

"Finn? Are you ever coming out?" She yelled angrily before tossing her phone back in the drawer.

"What's the hurry?" he drawled as he stepped out of the foggy bathroom clad in nothing but a towel.

"I just want to get it over with," she said coldly, and sat up with the covers pulled tightly to her neck. He shook his head and she turned her head away so she wouldn't be tempted to see how his body had changed over the past 5 years.

"Well, then we have a problem," he replied, and she felt the bed dip slightly under his weight.

"What problem is that?" she replied tightly, still not turning towards him until she felt the back of his hand slide along her cheek, down the side of her neck and along the rim of the blanket.

"See, you want it to be over with and I plan on taking things very, very slowly." She knew by the tone in his voice that nothing she did was going to dissuade him, so she let out a ragged breath, closed her eyes tightly and lowered herself onto the bed, her limbs feeling like heavy lead on the soft mattress.

"Fine." she whispered and waited for his assault, which didn't come. She opened her eyes to find him hovering over her, just watching. "What? Just take me, do what you want…it means nothing to either of us, so just use me," she added in a broken sob, turning so he had an obstructed view of her tear drenched face.

"You know, if you would just let yourself, you might actually enjoy this." Her head snapped back so she was staring at him.

"Enjoy this? You…you think I want this? Because…"

"No, you made your reasons for this clear. A million dollars clear, but why not try and enjoy it? If I remember correctly we were pretty good at this part of our relationship." She couldn't help but cry. This is what all he thought their marriage was good for? Sex?

"Just, please. If you are going to insist on this, don't talk to me about our past or what it felt like. I…like to keep those memories tucked away in a safe loving place and I don't want it to be tainted by this. You may not have any good memories, but…but I do and…"

The rest of her words were lost somewhere in her throat when his lips descended onto her neck. He slowly explored the soft skin as if he were retracing his steps, trying to see if he remembered where each of her sensitive spots was. She fought it. Every time her body instinctually wanted to react, to reciprocate to enjoy, she fought it. She closed her eyes tightly, clenched her fists and jaw wanting desperately to ignore how much her body missed his touch. He languidly moved down her body murmuring half-phrases and single words as he went. She figured he was just lost momentarily in memories, the same ones she kept wanting to forget.

His hands slid up her thighs as his mouth moved from her breasts to her abdomen and she slowly lost the resolve to fight her body's intense reactions. It had been so long since she had been touched and it just felt so good and she could simply imagine it was someone else. Someone else's hands, mouth and…and that is when she gave in. Her fingers went into his hair as he slowly kissed his way from her knee to her inner thigh before paring her sensitive flesh with his finger. She didn't stop this half whimper half moan that past her lips nor did she stop her hips from arching up to meet his mouth which had followed the path his fingers had made. She didn't fight the intense feeling that began in the depths of her stomach nor did she stop him when he put her knees over his shoulders. She couldn't stop any of it because her body welcomed it. When she finally allowed herself to give in completely she felt the pulse course through her, leaving tremors in its wake. She felt his lips lightly kiss her inner thigh and this time she listened as he whispered against her skin.

"I remember everything." Her breath hitched and she felt her heartbeat wildly throughout every part of her body. Her fingers gently massaged his scalp before he lowered her legs and raised his body so it aligned with hers. She no longer ignored how he felt cradled between her thighs or how his skin felt under her fingers; it was too difficult not to. The one thing she fought, for her own sanity, was not to look into his eyes because he could always read her as she never learned to guard herself, but that battle too was lost when he pressed the palm of his hand to her cheek and she was accidentally caught his gaze.

"Do…do you really?" She asked still breathless from the unplanned euphoria.

"Yea, I do." He whispered brushing his lips gently against hers. She didn't want to hope, to feel that maybe…maybe what he didn't believe through her words he believed through her body, so she wrapped her arms around his back drawing him to her as her lips parted against his. As his tongue moved in her mouth slowly, teasingly, she felt him at her entrance and she knew it would have been so easy, so normal to just take him deep inside of her, but she reminded herself that even though this was so familiar and it felt like home, it wasn't…it was an illusion and she couldn't take the risk of being so lost in it that she would never be able to make it back to reality, so she pushed at his shoulders and broke the kiss.

"You…you need a condom." He looked at her curiously and she saw the storm pass blocking out the warmth that had shown in his eyes. She knew he was going back to that dark suspicious place in his mind. The one that had brought them to the end in the first place.

"I'm clean. Take tests regularly and I would assume given your regular partner you'd be tested too." She bit her lip and turned away.

"God, how you can be such an ass. We were about to…"

"To what?" He asked as he pushed off of her. She turned to her side refusing to let him see her break down.

"Nothing. I just asked you to wear a condom and you…"

"I didn't say no…I just said…" She buried her face in the pillow.

"Please go. I can't…not now." She felt his hand brush her shoulder, but then retreat.

"Fine, but we aren't done." She nodded and waited until the bathroom door slammed shut before the tears freely flowed down her face.


	3. Chapter 3

Afternoon! Thank you all for the overwhelmingly positive response to our story. We are so glad you all are enjoying the angst. Here is chapter 2 with a little more insight to the psyche of our Finn. **_Flashbacks are in italics _**

Thank you to our lovely betas for all the work (joshsgrl and tjcrowfoot) you both are absolutely amazing!

Disclaimer: We do not own Glee

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><p>He looked at his face in the mirror and for a second—just for a second—he almost felt bad. But in that same second all the reasons he was this way crashed right back into him. He had reasons. He had good reasons. She had been the one who ruined everything; she had been the unfeeling prick first and that's why they were here.<p>

All the crying in the world wouldn't change that.

He took a long, steady breath and looked at himself again. He didn't recognize his own face, really. He was the poster child for fucking baggage at this point and, awesome. She started the ball rolling. All he was trying to do was stop it and bury it and be done.

If he could make her cry or better yet make her hurt, then he deserved to do that; because it would still only be a tenth of the hell she'd put him through.

He couldn't hear her or feel her moving around in the room behind him, through the wall. She wasn't walking or anything, she was still in the bed, but the walls weren't that thick and Christ if he didn't start to feel guilty again. Fuck that.

One thing he still didn't have an answer for was if she even cared. Or was the guilt and the hell and all the bullshit… was that just his cross to bear? Maybe she didn't feel guilty. Fuck—he already knew she probably didn't care. She was just playing mind games. She probably had someone else to get back to, and not just any someone else either. He knew they lived together. He knew they were together. He'd kind of already pissed on that grave by not signing divorce papers. There were times like right now when he wondered just who that was punishing.

He could chase tail. He made a good living. He didn't need this bullshit. He could certainly do better, especially if he just choked down the feelings and didn't remember.

He couldn't remember how her glance made him feel like a hero. He couldn't remember how her face and her breathy cries when she said his name made him feel like a God. He just…he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember without remembering and that was a huge fucking problem.

_The door was open. Should he close it? Should he…maybe he should just go. Maybe he could walk out the door and then this Twilight Zone bullshit would be over. Because he didn't like what he walked into. Could he just walk out, close the door, and come back in with a do-over?_

_They were laying in bed together. His wife. His…fuck, his wife and his best friend. _

He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw. It had been a long time since he cried about this bullshit; he preferred to spend his time with a punching bag and it was pretty obvious because he wasn't soft around the middle like those losers from high school he ran into every now and again. But being strong and being tough weren't the same thing. He had to work at both of them.

Not like he had much else to do anyway.

And when it got old, when working, and working some more, and working out got old, at least there were other options now. Being single had its benefits, even if he had waited until he was almost thirty to realize it. Shit, even with Rachel he had just jumped right on in. Fuck if he hadn't learned that lesson, all right?

_How well did he even know them? It was pretty fucking clear he didn't know either of them as well as he thought. They knew each other better than he wanted them to. There was no going back. Only going forward. Moving out. Moving forward. Going out? _

_Going out was a good idea. He needed a fucking drink. Maybe if he had a drink he would fall asleep and he could forget this feeling. This day. His whole life. _

_Maybe if he just walked out the front door, it would be like a life do-over. You could do that, right? _

In some ways, it was possible. And he learned. Sure, things weren't the same but different wasn't always bad. He had traded in the shit-hole apartment with rent split three ways. He didn't give her a fucking dime (another perk of not actually signing divorce papers), so he traded in sharing money. He had traded in late-night phone calls and text messages and words of love—for late-night hookups, fancy parties. He traded love for sex. He traded everything he was before. Now he was better—he was stronger, he had moved on and… and he wasn't fooling himself, but it was all he could do. He was still rebuilding and she just appeared to have gone on. It was total bullshit.

He wanted her to know how it felt to have everything ripped away. Looking back, it hadn't been at a moment's notice, but that's how it had felt. This was the best chance he had to recreate it. He could do this if she could. He could hold everything she wanted over her head and use it to destroy her; and then he could walk away.

Maybe then he would hopefully, finally just feel… well… anything.

He was starting to calm down. He spread his hands out on the counter and dipped his head into the sink before he turned on the faucet. He took a small drink of cool water and then let it drip down over his face to hopefully sort it out. Physical stuff like water and sweat always seemed to be the easiest way to cut through the bullshit for him. And really, that's all this was; one last round of game playing bullshit. He had to pull himself together. He couldn't care anymore. It might kill him. He pulled his head out of the sink and turned the water off.

So he employed war-time tactics. He'd studied all that crap in business school. Art of war. Rules of engagement. Whatever. That's all this was, and he had to leave the personal stuff out of it. All that was left of them—of what had once been the best part of his life—was a business deal; if he'd even though it was possible anything could be saved, he knew he was wrong the minute she asked him for a million dollars.

What would a Broadway baby like her need with that kind of money? It just didn't fucking make sense. He assumed she'd had her big break. He'd avoided news of the theater world like the plague. His secretary made fun of him because he didn't even own a functioning television. The plasma was only good for video games and the occasional porn.

Well, whatever. The fact was he had the money to burn; it seemed like a small price to pay to get her out of his life, even if he was the one refusing to sign papers. He was the one who had held out and refused to give her any sort of money because over the years they were apart, he'd come to be worth a lot more money. It had all been lucky commissions and whatever, but that luck would run out if he had to actually go through a divorce with someone who was as demanding as Rachel.

Fuck, she'd probably just take all his money and then whine about him being too broke to pay attention. And then she'd probably try to tell him again she hadn't done anything wrong. But he knew better because he'd seen it with his own eyes. And it wasn't a one-time thing—he was sure. Plus, it wasn't like Puck hadn't won anyway. Puck had everything and Finn had nothing and Finn was determined to still come out on top.

No, it didn't matter who had done what then. All that mattered was who would do what now; and he was determined to win this particular battle. He hadn't seen the other one coming at all, but this one? This one he was prepared for. He just had to stay focused.

He went back out into the room and he tried not to look at her form, still huddled under the sheet, even if it was pulled right up to her chin now. He pulled on at least his underwear. There was truth to the marital advice about fighting naked—they'd never been able to do it. And God only knew at this point, he was ready for a fight. He wasn't sure what else they could even do anymore. So he got dressed to make the fighting easier. Well—if that was even possible.

He sat down on the bed and could see her move away from him. He scoffed and shook his head.

"There's really no use pretending you're the victim here, Rachel," he said simply. He pulled the television remote from the bedside table and the television snapped to life before she said anything.

"Who's pretending?"

He looked over at her. Her wounded tone, the sniffling—it was all pathetic. She was the saddest thing he'd ever heard and would probably be the saddest thing he'd ever seen (save the day he'd returned to the apartment and asked her to leave with the fifth of whiskey still on his breath). He steeled himself. "Well, you'd have to be, sweetheart."

"Well, by definition the victim is the wronged party. Given that you refuse to listen to me at all, the only victim here is the one you've created in your own head. You're the victim of your own stubbornness, because without it, we could be happy. We could still be happy with…" she trailed off with a heavy sigh.

"Right. My stubbornness is how you ended up in bed with another guy. How the fuck do you figure that, Rachel?"

"I was just that—_in bed_. I didn't cheat on you."

He scoffed. "Well…I know better than to trust you so… whatever. I'll take his sloppy seconds—and then after this weekend he can have mine and my money. I don't care anymore."

"That much is just obvious," she said. "You don't care about anything."

"Well, I figured at least one of us should give a shit about me."

Her words were quiet but exact. "And which one of us is that? You certainly don't care for yourself any more than you care for me."

"How do you figure that?"

She let out a long, slow breath before she rolled over to lay on her back. "I still know you, Finn. I know you won't show me real feelings or open yourself up to a real and constructive conversation about anything; and that's fine—I honestly don't care anymore. I told you what I wanted. You told me the conditions under which you would give it to me. Honestly, even though it amounts to little more than prostitution, I don't care. I need the money. You're the one in the position to give it to me. There is no pride in my reasoning. Furthermore, I don't have to explain it to you and I'm not going to waste my breath. So let's get this over with."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. She didn't care? If that was the case then his plan had no prayer of working and he had no hope for closure of any kind. No, he needed her to care. He needed her to want him with a blinding passion so that when he simply walked away she would feel like the world had crumbled around her, so just as in business, he realized, he needed a new game plan and fast. Fuck, but what. She claimed she knew him, but did she really? No, he wasn't the same man that she left broken. He was a shark and she was the pray not the other way around and all he needed was the right kind of bait. She may not know him, but he still knew her and that also made him realize that he really had gone about this all wrong. He couldn't manipulate her feelings through sex, although she did finally give in, so she must have still felt something for him, but he had to lure her in by romancing her, by making her feel that he wanted to move forward with her…yes, he needed them to take a trip down memory lane.

"Get dressed." He ordered harshly but rephrased his words when she glared at him angrily, "Sorry, look I shouldn't have been so harsh earlier. Why don't we go out for dinner?" Rachel tightened her hold on the sheet and eyed him suspiciously.

"Why would we go to dinner? This is just a…"

"A sexual thing?" He asked interrupting her.

"Right, I thought that was the arrangement. You got me physically for the weekend and I got the divorce and money in return." He grimaced slightly then sat down on the bed.

"Actually I believe my words were a weekend as a married couple. Married couples do go out together, don't they?" She sat up straight and he watched as she contemplated his offer.

"Well, I suppose, but…" He jumped off the bed and held his hand out to her (something he always did in the past, a gesture that always made her smile). She tentatively reached out and took it as he helped her maneuver off the bed while she held the sheet around her naked body protectively.

"Come on, what is the worst that can happen?" He asked as he fought to regain control of this conversation. Rachel's eyes narrowed in response, but when she let out a sigh he knew he had won the round.

"I…I guess I could eat something." He offered her a smile, hoping it appeared genuine to which she smiled tentatively, almost shyly in return reminding him of how she smiled at him when he picked her up for their first date. He cursed himself for not being able to bury those damned memories and the feelings that went with them. Feelings were what weak men were controlled with. Feelings are what left him debilitated after she crushed him. No, he needed to keep her at bay, but close enough that she dropped her defenses and trusted him again. He let out a breath, dropped her hand, and ran his hand through his damp hair.

"Good, so I'll change in the bathroom to give you some privacy." Her smile faded and her lips formed a thin line as she glanced towards the bed. "I'm sorry I pushed things so hard. We should take things a bit slower, so you are more comfortable."

"While I appreciate your sudden concern for my feelings, I am somewhat confused as to what you are trying to accomplish."

"I don't follow what you are asking." He said now leaning against the wall. He needed to keep a physical distance between them.

"What I mean is we made a deal. I am what they would call a sure thing, so I am not sure why you are all of a sudden trying to make me feel at ease. I had hoped you might somewhere deep down still harbored positive feelings towards me, but your behavior has proven otherwise. In other words, I know you hate me, so there is no need to, in your words 'pretend.'" So she still knew him. He was just going to have to up his game.

"You're right. I should never have said anything about you pretending to be victim and you were also right that I can be quite stubborn, so consider this an olive branch of sorts."

"An olive branch?" She asked hesitantly and he knew he was getting there.

"Yes, think of it as my way of trying to build a bridge. I mean we are finally going to get a divorce, why waste the last weekend angry."

"I…I don't know what to say. I just don't know if I can believe you. I mean one minute you are coercing me into having sex and the next you are telling me you want to be what…friends?" He shrugged slightly and continued his closer.

"How about I sweeten the deal for you?" When she raised an eyebrow he continued, "I promise that I will give you the million and the divorce as long as you spend the weekend with me." She shook her head in response.

"That is already what we agreed on, so I am not sure where…"

"No, I mean you spend the weekend with me as my wife. No sex involved, unless you are the one to initiate it." He smirked when her eyes widened and began coughing almost violently, "Are you okay?" He asked sitting down next to her. She nodded as she gasped for air.

"Why…why…?"

"Why the sudden change of heart?" He asked casually as he gently rubbed circles on her back to help calm her down, not wanting to admit that just touching her caused his body to warm.

"Yes."

"Look, I am not going to lie and say I don't want to have sex with you. You are as beautiful as always and we have a very intimate history, but you don't seem to want that and I am definitely not going to force you in anyway. It was wrong of me to try and manipulate your feelings. Regardless of how we ended things I should have just offered to help. No questions asked. I mean you would have done the same if the roles were reversed right?" Rachel nodded mutely and he could tell she thought he was sincere. Maybe he was the better actor.

"But…but why then not just give me the money and divorce without any false pretenses?" He stood up with his back facing her.

"I never said I wasn't selfish Rach, you of all people should know that. I am just trying to be understanding and sensitive. I always thought you preferred that side of me."

"You always were, at least with me anyway." She replied softly, "That's why when you kicked me out I was so shocked. I…never expected you not to believe me." He swallowed the knot in his throat. He was not going to let her soft voice and fake words get to him. He knew what happened. He saw it, he lived it, and now he was going to bury it.

"Let's not discuss what happened in the past. Let's just go out and get to know one another again. Sound good?" He asked finally turning to face her then immediately wishing he hadn't. He took one look in her tear filled eyes and felt that familiar spiral, the one where he knew he could get lost for an eternity. The spiral that caused him to be blindsided by her betrayal. She must have noticed his far away look because she cleared her throat and looked away.

"I'd like that. I mean it would be nice to find out what you have been doing for the past 5 years, although I might not like what I hear. I do read the papers and all."

For some reason the fact that she knew about his promiscuity didn't give him a satisfied feeling, rather he felt his stomach churn with self-pity. Damn her for making him feel ashamed. He didn't want her fucking pity. He wanted to see the warmth and love. No, no he didn't really want to see love in her eyes…he just wanted it temporarily, so it would even be sweeter when at the end of the weekend he'd see utter despair. Yes, that is what he wanted. He wanted her to hurt, not to see her look at him like he hung the moon. Right. He hated feelings.

"Well, I'll just go get dressed and see you in a few. Oh and Rach…" he paused when she looked back at him curiously, "…you never know, you might just be the one attacking me by the end of the night." As soon as her jaw dropped he turned on his heels and high tailed it back to the bathroom. He may have won this round, but he was definitely going to need to keep reminding himself of everything she had done to him if he was going to maintain the lead.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N from JannP: I've been kind of the silent partner here, adding bits and pieces (mostly just bits) up until this part because Jen just ran with this amazing idea. This was the first part I really dug into and I hope the story benefits from my touches here, even though it would literally be nothing without my fabulous partner. I know it isn't exactly fun reading, but I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed helping write it. Please take a moment and make our day by letting us know what you think and how to make it better-reviews make us update faster. We are grateful for the support (and maybe just a little blown away!)

A/N from wants2beawriter: Quick response to my partner here. She may have been silent letting me post away, but she has been anything but not involved. I came to her with this idea and tried really_ really_ hard not to be a bull dozer with it (hopefully I haven't been too bad lol), but without her work this story wouldn't be possible. Her insights into Finn's mindset truly set her apart from any writer I have ever had the pleasure of encountering. Thank you so much for embarking on this roller coaster of a story with me! Now to all of our readers; thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the comments and support. This story is definitely not an easy read, so thanks for sticking with it. Hope you enjoy our collaboration.

A special thank you to joshsgrl for taking the time to edit when she could be out partying! 11 days!

Rated: T

Disclaimer: We do not, nor have we ever owned Glee.

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><p>Finn was unwilling to give her the name of the restaurant they were going to and it gave her pause, but she wasn't interested in small talk of any kind. She glanced over at her husband, who was reading through the NY Times, before letting her eyes flutter shut. She was so exhausted she honestly felt she had barely closed her eyes before he was rubbing her arm to wake her up.<p>

"How long was I asleep?" She asked groggily stretching her arms and legs out as much as the back seat of his private car would allow.

"About 30 minutes or so; I had honestly forgotten what a sound sleeper you are…and how you talk in your sleep."

Rachel froze at the thought of what he might have heard. When she did talk in her sleep it was usually about whatever was weighing heavily on her and Caleb was her main focus (besides this ludicrous situation.)

"Oh, well….I'm sure it wasn't anything eventful," she said as casually as possible before stepping out of the car.

She wasn't sure what his new angle was or what he was truly trying to accomplish, but if it meant she didn't have to endure being intimate with her soon to be ex-husband for a myriad of reasons she was going to take advantage of it while she could.

"Actually, I found it quite entertaining."

Without glancing at the restaurant, Rachel spun almost bumping into him. "I…I see and what may I ask was so entertaining?" Rachel asked taking a step back, uncomfortable with his proximity, especially after she initially gave into his physical advances so easily. She couldn't let her feelings cloud her judgment any more than they already had.

His face was a mixture of curiosity, anger, and… well, she wouldn't allow herself to think about the other component. "Well, my name did cross those beautiful lips on more than one occasion," he said with a smug grin—flustering her in the process.

"I certainly did not say your name in my sleep and even if I were to have accidentally said it, it must have been because I was thinking about what a horribly vile man you are for bringing me to this point," she ranted.

"Whoa, relax. Don't get pissed at me because you can't handle that you still want me. If anything I should be the one angry because apparently you're already dating someone besides my ex-best friend. Does he know about our little bargain or did you decide to keep him in the dark as well?" Finn asked, his cool façade of indifference quickly crumbling.

Rachel felt the tears prick the back of her eyes. "I…I don't know who you're talking about and I am all done justifying my relationship with Noah," she whispered before turning toward the restaurant for the first time. Oh God. She assumed when he wouldn't tell her it was simply another form of a power trip for him. She figured he would take her to some offensive strip club or seedy bar. She never in a million years expected him to…

He watched her react, watched her deliberately slow her breathing as she flickered through a quick change of confusion, anger, and disbelief. He could still read her that well; he wished he couldn't. She'd uttered more than one dude's name in her sleep and he wished he didn't know someone like that as well as he knew her. He'd never thought her capable of something so… he licked his lips and felt his resolve strengthen. For the first time since he'd slipped the address to his driver, he knew he'd made the right decision bringing her here; and he was more certain than ever this was the way to get what he wanted. It was easy to slip back and forth from seemingly doting husband to pissed-off stranger when she gave him so much to work with.

"Surprised?" He breathed against her ear and neck, causing her to literally cringe.

"Why? Why would you do this?" She asked in a broken whisper.

Because I want you know how I feel? How I have felt every day for five years? Because this is just one of a dozen things I used to love that have been absolutely ruined for me? Because you ruined me, period?

He couldn't actually say any of that.

"Well, I remembered how much you liked this place given you follow that ridiculous vegan diet, so I figured…" He said with a shrug, casually walking in front of her. Once upon a time, he would've held a door or insisted she go ahead, maybe taken her hand if it was a case of leading her. But now…in the case of leading her on he just wanted her to follow him, and he knew the only way to get her walking was for him to seem like he was free. He'd gotten used to shrugging off a lot; it only took him a moment to remember how. Even if seeing somewhere that had been such a favorite place of theirs was enough to steal it for a second, he could snap back into character. She taught him how.

"Well, you figured wrong. How…did…did our marriage mean so little to you? How can you bring me to the place where we spent the first year and a half of our life toge…." She said loudly, knowing that most of the city block could probably hear her; when she really realized how loud she was, she stopped speaking and trailed suddenly.

His eyes followed her hand as it fluttered on her throat and he rolled his eyes. He started to argue back, immediately angry; he was jealous she had mentioned two guys—not only Puck but some guy named Caleb as well—and definitely not liking how this whole thing seemed to be backfiring on him by sending all her defenses right back up again.

"God, you have always been this dramatic? It is just a damned restaurant and I thought you would enjoy coming back. Besides I'm sure that—"

He was interrupted by an older woman calling out as she approached them. "Rachel? Sweetheart, is that really you? And...Oh my God, Doug…"

"You bastard," Rachel whispered through her tears. "You…"

"I didn't know they would be here on a Friday night," he shot back, hoping she didn't see the look of regret on his face. His voice was just as venomous and he was trying to swallow down the swift feelings that came up from the interruption: the warmth, the urge to hug the woman who was actually a lot like his mother and had been…whatever. What had been didn't matter now as much as what had to be, h. He needed to focus.

"Oh, sweetie…I can't believe you're here and you two…" the woman gushed and stopped herself; she sighed, looking between them. "You two are here together. I was so worried when you stopped coming by every week for dinner once you moved…are you…" Rachel couldn't speak, could only shake her head as the older woman pulled her into an embrace. "Well, never mind that, I am so happy to see you. Come inside…"

Rachel looked over her shoulder at Finn as she was led inside by the hand and, just for a second, she thought she saw pure and utter sadness plaguing his beautiful face.

He saw her looking and knew he had to rein it in. This was more of a kick to the 'nads than he had expected. He needed a minute to catch his breath. He tried to snap himself back together before she looked again. He could work with this; he could. Maybe he just needed to excuse himself for a minute to "go to the bathroom" or something. They had lived here, or just upstairs, so he knew his way around. He could find somewhere to go for a minute.

"Finn Hudson, now aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Doug said jovially as he moved to Finn's side behind the two ladies who were walking with their hands clasped. He patted Finn on the back and frowned lightly. "A little tense there?"

Finn sighed and lowered his shoulders with a deep exhale. "You have no idea."

"So, what the hell have you been up to? Haven't seen you for what…two years?" Finn nodded as they followed Rachel towards a back table. He tried not to remember how many times they had followed this exact path before; the carpet had been replaced with a hardwood floor and the pictures on the walls were framed with a lighter colored wood, but it really wasn't that different. The feelings were no different. Well…he was fighting them every step of the way this time so that wasn't the same.

"Working and shit…nothing new."

Doug stopped short at a side table, restraining Finn with a gentle hand on the elbow and dropping his voice down. "Nothing new?" The man repeated, his volume nothing more than a disbelieving hiss. "Last time I saw you, you came in here asking if Angie or I had heard anything from Rachel and then nothing; nothing from either of you for years. Now you two walk in together and look anything but happy. What gives?"

"We split up, all right? We're finally getting a divorce and just trying to work out the details."

Doug eyed him curiously then gestured his head in Rachel and Angie's direction. "I might just have been your landlord and Rachel's boss so maybe I'm overstepping my bounds here; but you two were almost sickening and lovey and then…what, it's just over? I just don't get it—because you really loved each other."

Finn sighed and offered his old friend a tight smile. "Some things just…things don't last, they change, all right? So…look, I need…"

Doug could see the younger man leaning toward where the ladies were standing in front of an achingly familiar table. He could see Finn needing to get over there and to be let out of his conversation. "Yea, go over and rescue her from Angie and I'll go make you both something. The usual?" Finn raised his eyebrows but didn't open his mouth and Doug continued. "You don't think I remember? You two ate here almost every night for a year and half."

Finn nodded and gave a smile they both knew was fake before he slapped Doug on the back. He headed back to the table, stopping when he heard Rachel laughing with Angie. He closed his eyes and allowed a long, steady breath to help as he forced himself not to get sucked in by such a sweet sound. He didn't want want to hear her laugh or see her eyes light up when she smiled. This wasn't about wanting a future with her. It was about closing the door to the past, so he could finally…finally feel something other than numbness or...well, all that other stuff. He didn't want to feel any of it anymore. He needed to shed her like he would any other bad habit.

After his breath was done, he cleared his throat to interrupt the two women. He offered Angie a warm smile when she looked behind her and Rachel thought it might have been the first true emotion he'd actually expressed since she had the displeasure of going to him for help. She looked away, not wanting to actually see a hint of who he used to be; it was easier not to. After all, neither of them were the same people and neither of them could go back.

"It's great to see you," he said softly as Angie pulled him into a motherly embrace.

"It is wonderful to see you. I missed you…" She paused and looked over at Rachel, who was wiping the tears from her own cheeks with the back of her hand. "…Bboth of you." Rachel smiled as new tears began to trickle down her already soaked cheeks.

"I missed you, too…you have no idea how much," Rachel whispered, her voice faltering to almost a squeak.

Angie released Finn from their embrace and wiped her own eyes. "Enough or I'll cry again. Did Doug start dinner for you?" Finn swallowed hard; Rachel could see his eyes and thought he was fighting his own tears from falling. When he spoke, his voice confirmed her suspicions.

"Yeah, he ummm…he said he remembered what we used to eat so…"

"Of course he does. Now, Rachel, are you sure you don't want something else since you aren't vegan anymore? We have some amazing new dishes you can try."

Rachel shook her head no and smiled.

"Okay then…dinner will be out shortly and when you two are done, we can catch up some more. I can't wait to hear how you are."

They both kind of nodded absently and she left, so they took their seats on the opposite side of the private booth. Rachel let out a shaky breath as Finn sat down across from her, buying time until Angie was out of ear shot.

"What kind of game are you trying to play here?" She growled, leaning across the table so he could hear her.

He swallowed a drink from the small water glass in front of him on the table and looked at her blankly, tying together all the stupid feelings he just didn't even want, let alone want her to see. Once he felt like he was put back together, he spoke in an easy tone.

"I have no clue what you're talking about. I had no idea they would be here when I decided to bring you here."

Rachel looked around to make sure no one was around them. "It doesn't matter if they were supposed to be here or not. You knew how much this place meant to me and how it would hurt me to come back here with you."

"Don't be ridiculous! I said we were going to go out as a married couple again. That was my only intention."

"Bullshit, Finn! You wanted to humiliate me! God…having sex with you would have been less torture than this," Rachel replied heatedly.

"Trust me; you set the bar on humiliation. You set it so high I couldn't ever reach and when the hell did you start to curse?" He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a tension headache starting to creep up through his shoulders where they were hunched while he watched her. His voice dropped back to a more pleasant curious tone before he continued. "...And why aren't you vegan anymore?"

He didn't know which he was angrier about—the fact that she seemed to forget what she did to him or that fact that he didn't feel like he knew her at all anymore. It was a miracle he could choke his voice back down to a normal volume at all. He covered his frustration with another drink of water.

"God Finn, when are you going to get it through your thick skull that I never cheated on you? I loved you…I…God, you are so stupid." She cried as she tossed her napkin on the table. She clawed her way out of the booth and jumped to her feet, but then paused before running to the restrooms, stooping down to issue a hurried explanation in all her annoyance. "And for your information I had to give up veganism because my life was no longer conducive to it nor was I financially able to maintain such an expensive diet. Now if you'll excuse me…"

Once she disappeared, he rested his forehead on the table. It was shaping up to be a very long night; and he already had a headache coming on.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, Rachel returned to the table and he could easily see she had been crying. He should have been happy about that as the goal was to make her hurt, but instead he felt a familiar knot in the pit of his stomach, just like he had whenever she cried. The same knot got even more painful when she refused to look at him.<p>

"Rach…" he said in more of a breath than a voice, and more begging than anything else he'd done so far.

"Don't," she replied softly as she wiped away fresh tears. He had to catch himself from reaching across the table and wiping them tears away himself—and as his hand shook in denial on his lap, he wondered if those kinds of habits were the hardest to break; because he sure still had a lot of them and he didn't want them anymore.

"Don't what?"

"Don't call me that," she said clearly, her voice almost distant and foreign. He still remembered what her voice used to sound like when she would emotionally shut down. It was a voice he did not like; not in the slightest—probably the only voice of hers he actually hated. But then again, once he could find something he hated, he could hold onto it. It would be good, wouldn't it? It would help him focus again, should help him…but instead he just felt awful and tried his hardest to keep that feeling in the pit of his stomach away from his face where she would see it and she would know.

"What? I didn't call you…" he protested and her motion cut him off.

Rachel shook her head and finally looked up at him, her eyes full of pain and regret. He suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air in the room. For the first time, he was almost certain he couldn't actually do what he had been trying to do. It would kill whatever was left of him, if there was anything. He hadn't used these parts in a while, and the ache was roaring through him like it did through his muscles when he punched the bag a little too hard.

Where was that anger now? Was it all punched out? He needed some of it back because he felt like he was drowning in her eyes.

"Rach…you called me Rach and…"

"That's your name. I always called you…" he said hoarsely.

"No, you…you can't have it both ways here. You…you can't try to torture me with memories but hate me at the same time," she said, once again on the brink of tears. "If you truly want to make amends and get to know me, then you have to respect me and my feelings."

He sat for a moment, her words echoing in his head. On one hand, he wanted to fix his heart; to make it whole so it could feel something instead of just ache. On the other hand, she was the one who made him like this. She was the one who leveled him to nothing. So, he wouldn't take the chance. He couldn't take the chance because he couldn't feel anything, let alone respect feelings.

No; regardless of how sincere her intentions might seem, he couldn't risk getting to know her or falling in love with her again. Especially when she was still unable to admit what she did or the fact she was seeing two men. She just had trouble and heartbreak written all over her. He needed to be more careful with what was left of his heart; the tiny fragments were too much to risk.

"Fine, I…I won't call you that," he said solemnly.

She nodded and let out a sigh. Doug had sent out a server with their meal, and they both assumed it was to avoid interrupting their reunion. However, after over twenty minutes of strained silence, neither could take it anymore.

"So…?" They started in unison, laughing nervously as they realized what had happened.

"You first," Finn said with a weak smile.

"No, no, I'm sure your life has been far more exciting than mine…please." Rachel said, almost pleadingly. She didn't want to talk about her life as much as she thought he needed her to talk about it.

He put his fork down and let out a deep breath. "Well, ummm…after you left, I started working a lot."

"More than before?" Rachel interrupted. He nodded and her face hardened a little but her voice turned to steel. "I find that hard to believe given how much you worked during the last few months…" She sighed and just like that, her voice was soft again. "I mean…I never saw you."

"Yea, well I didn't really want to be at our house once you weren't there, so…" He admitted, a little sadly. When she looked at him with pity in her eyes, he wished he hadn't lost control that way. He had to get it back. "That didn't end up mattering too much, though. The hard work paid off, I made a name for myself as a sports agent. I managed to land several big names all at once then it just grew from there. So now I have money to burn, but you already knew that or…well, you wouldn't have come to me in the first place, right?"

Her eyes widened at the swift change in him. The sadness, the doubt… it was gone. The man she knew had been replaced with his sharp candor as he picked up his fork again and played with the mountain of broccoli still left on his plate.

Still, she had to be honest. "No, I wouldn't have—not after the way you threw me out." She choked on her words and on the sharp taste of bile in her throat. She thought she might know how he had switched on a dime, but unlike him she knew she would never be able to keep it up. "But you seem happy. I mean, I see your picture in the papers all the time. Different woman on your arm…I…" She added, her voice faltering when the reminder of those images became too painful.

"It's easy," he replied quickly for both their sakes.

"What's easy? Money, power…"

"Different women," he muttered, still not looking at her. He was afraid he would blurt out the unfortunate truth that easy women were easier to be around than his wife…or soon-to-be-ex-wife.

Rachel nodded then bit her lip. "Well as long as you're happy," she said with a fake smile, but he could see the tears pooling again in her eyes. He hoped he hid his emotions better. He held his napkin out to her blankly; he knew he wasn't going to cry because that usually wasn't his thing—but hiding emotions was more than biting back tears and he knew it. She accepted the offered linen without moving her mouth out of a flat line; she was a little better than he'd given her credit for.

"Yea, I…I mean who wouldn't be right?" He replied, almost choking on the words, letting them trip over each other a little in his hurry to get them out before his voice could give him away. He needed to change the subject. Like, now. "So, ummm, what about you? I figured you were a big name on Broadway, but… "

"No, well, goals change and so did mine, so…" she kept her voice and her head down, unable to meet his gaze and sparking his curiosity.

"I don't believe that. Did…did…Puck convince you to give up on your dreams because I…"

"NO!" She shouted, immediately and defensively, drawing the attention of a few patrons as well as prodding Finn's anger back to the surface.

"No? Well excuse me for assuming since you didn't make anything of your life…I thought it would be because that loser dragged you down with him."

"Stop!" She said. "He…he has been nothing but wonderful to me and Ca—" she shut her mouth quickly. He didn't need to learn about Caleb, especially in the heat of an argument. If she had her way, he just wouldn't learn at all.

"Oh I am sure he's been wonderful," Finn retorted sharply, acid eating through his entire tone.

"He has. If you knew half of the things he has done for me and…well, you would be singing his praises rather than condemning him," she surmised.

"Praising him? You…you've got to be fucking kidding me. I…he…you…" Finn stammered as his anger continued to boil, simmering dangerously close to exploding now. "You can't be serious."

"Yes, I'm more than serious. He has been my lifeline since…" she pulled her dwindling glass of water to her lips and spoke just before drinking. "I don't want to talk about him anymore…I..I won't."

"Fine. You don't want to talk about him anymore? What about the other guy?" Finn spat, finally remembering his goal of punishment. He was back in control and he was getting more certain by the second. This is what he needed. This is what he could do.

"What…what other guy?" She stammered; he could see fear in her eyes. He was winning. He was on the right track. There was someone else. Someone she was hiding.

"Come on…you can tell me. I won't tell Puck you're having an affair…at least not yet."

"I don't know what you're talking about but I think this evening is over." Rachel spat, standing up from the table.

Time to pull it back a little; she had escalated her defense so quickly he had to get it back under his control. This would move at his pace, end of story. They hadn't gotten here on his terms, but they would sure as shit end on them.

He shook his head and gripped her wrist, letting his thumb run over her racing pulse.

"Rach…I mean Rachel. I'm sorry. Look, I don't want to discuss Puck or any other guy you are with just as much as you obviously don't want to, so let's agree to drop it and have dessert. I know you aren't vegan anymore, but they do have the cheesecake you loved. Please?"

Rachel swallowed hard and hesitantly slid back into her seat. His sudden switch had thrown her back off balance and she wasn't entirely sure what to do with that. But it didn't seem like he was going to pull out any more sharp weapons…at least not right away. They could retreat a little and lick their wounds without losing ground.

"I…I do love their cheesecake. I've really missed it," she said, pulling her hand away from his hold.

But she gave him a small smile anyway. This wasn't over, not by a long shot, but it sure seemed like at least a brief truce.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N from JannP: Back again. Super grateful for everyone (especially my partner in crime's) being patient and encouraging. I think I forgot to mention it sooner, but the title of this whole thing and some of the inspiration on this come from the song Wedding Dress by Matt Nathanson. The rest of the inspiration, well, it's Jen's. Because she's a genius. I'm just stealing a ride on her bandwagon, really.

A/N from wants2beawriter: I have no real words to express how much I appreciate all of the fabulous support for our story. It has been a pleasure to work on this with my awesome co-author. What a fabulous journey and we are only half way through! Hope you all enjoy!

Rated: T for some language

Disclaimer: nope, we don't own Glee

* * *

><p>Her phone lit up and vibrated, buzzing against the nightstand and startling her from half-awake to entirely awake. Based on the shroud of night over the room, it had to be very early in the morning. She quickly scrambled to her feet and glanced over at Finn who was sprawled out on the couch. He was so much larger than the piece of furniture; it seemed impossible he could be comfortable. His comfort was the least of her concerns just now, though. She tiptoed as quietly as possible to the bathroom and answered the call breathlessly.<p>

"Hey, is everything okay? It's what…two in the morning?" Rachel asked in a whisper, hoping her voice didn't carry too much.

"Yea, give or take and everything is…_okay_, I guess, but…"

"…but what? Either it's okay or it's not," she snapped, louder than she had hoped. She immediately felt terrible for taking out her fear on him. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried and not there and…"

"S'okay. They put him on oxygen and—before you panic, it's a low setting—but you know how he gets in the hospital."

Rachel closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. "He can't sleep."

"Right, and I wouldn't let the docs give him a sedative 'cause…well, you know how he reacted last time."

Rachel lowered herself to the edge of the oversized bathtub. "No…you're right. You did the right thing. Have you tried reading to him?"

"Yea, I tried it all: read to him, sang to him…I even crawled into hospital bed and you know how small those things are. My back is gonna hurt for a month."

"I am _not_ rubbing your back for the next month," Rachel said with a slight laugh. She felt better when he chucked back. She really did miss him.

"I know… but hey, it doesn't hurt to _try_," he replied. He continued quickly to clear the tension, but it didn't really work because of his words. "You know what he wants."

She cringed slightly. _Of course she knew what her son wanted. She had only been comforting him the same way for the past 4 years._

"I…I can't."

"Why not? _Not alone_?" He asked pointedly. She felt a baseball-sized knot form in the pit of her stomach.

She was going to have an ulcer by the time this was all said and done.

"Of course I'm alone. It's just…this is a hotel and people might complain," she argued softly, wincing when she heard him speaking to Caleb in the background.

"Rach, I don't give a damn about anyone in that building—or that city, for that matter. Our son is in a fucking hospital bed wanting his mommy to take care of him and you aren't here and…" She felt her eyes well with tears and he must have heard her sniffle because he whispered his apology. "Babe, I'm sorry, it's just so hard to see him like this and I…I can't do a damned thing for him. I feel so _helpless_."

Rachel covered her mouth so Finn wouldn't hear her crying. "I…I know and…and…put him on the phone. Just tell him I have to be quiet."

She walked over to the bathroom door and peered out in the darkness. She could still hear his steady breathing, so she figured she was in the clear. The _last_ thing in the world she needed to explain was why and _who_ she was singing to (and especially why _that_ song.)

She closed the door quietly and let out another sob.

"Mama?"

"Hey, baby. What are you doing still up?" Rachel said, keeping her voice low and hoping to keep it even for the sake of her son. It terrified her to hear his labored breathing through the phone. "You should be asleep; you need your rest to keep your strength up."

"Can't…mama…._please_…" he breathed softly. He could barely even speak through the struggle of breathing.

"Okay, but do you _promise_ you'll try to go to sleep after?" She asked, then heard him shuffling into the bed.

"He's in, babe," Noah said from Caleb's bedside, loud enough for her to hear through the phone speaker.

"Okay sweetie," she sighed. She looked back at the closed door, steeling herself for the onslaught of memories; she never could stop them from flooding through her.

Why was she doing _any of_ this again?

"_Sing it again," he pled as he pulled her back onto the massive king sized bed. _

"_I sang it five times already. Aren't you sick of hearing it?" She laughed when he flipped them over so she was caged beneath him. _

"_Never," he said seriously before lowering his lips to hers. "I will never get tired of hearing you sing." _

_She wrapped her legs around his bare torso and smirked slightly. "Well, how about we make a deal?" _

"_Depends on the deal," he mumbled, his mouth trailing along her jaw to her neck, sighing when she squirmed and whimpered. "I am gonna love finding all of your spots." _

"_You…you aren't playing fair…." _

_He shook his head and continued his downward decent ignoring her pleas. "See, you make the best sounds when I find them and…" When she arched and dug her fingers in her shoulders he smiled against her skin, "…and now, I have a lifetime to discover all of them." Then he stopped moving, so she nudged him to continue._

"_What…you…you can't tease me like that…are you going to keep being a mean husband?" She questioned and whined with a pout at the same time. _

"_Nope, I will be the best husband ever….but only if you sing the song again." _

_Rachel propped up on her elbows and narrowed her eyes at her very sexy and very smug husband. She wondered why that didn't sound weird to say given they had only been married for a few hours and had only known each other a few hours longer. _

"_Fine, but you owe me." _

_He gave her a grin and she sighed. She seriously needed to learn to defend herself against that smile. _

"_Close your eyes….give me your hand darling…" _

Caleb's sniffle pulled her from the memory. _He_ was her reason for everything now. There was really no going back.

"Mama?" Caleb said weakly; she had to bite back a sob. He sounded so fragile and she wasn't _there_. What was she doing? This wasn't actually going to solve anything.

"Sorry sweetie, I'm here. Ready?" She waited for his murmur of agreement, no more than a short and labored breath, before she sang.

_Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling. Do you feel my heart beating, do you understand? Do you feel the same or am I only dreaming? Is this burning, an eternal flame. I believe it's meant to be darling. I watch when you are sleeping, you belong with me… _

* * *

><p>The night had actually gone better than he had planned or thought it would, especially after their dinner fiasco. They got back to the room around ten or so and talked into the early morning about pretty much everything and anything <em>except<em> her life with Puck and Caleb (whoever the hell that was—he _still _didn't know and wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know.)

Instead, he pretended to be understanding but he found himself on a new and very dangerous path—one with no real plan at all. She told him about her career and how she had started teaching, but she deflected every question about _where_ she was teaching. Apparently, the where of that was as important as details about her home life. It was like she was giving him a sneak peak at her life without allowing him to read the whole story and he was fighting every second not to be consumed with curiosity and frustration.

He guessed he really wasn't much better, though. She had asked for more details about his life more than once and he skirted around the issues. He didn't want her to know how empty his life actually was because he didn't want her to piece together _why_ he was putting her through all of this.

So, they both said a little about their present, definitely didn't talk about the future, but got lost in the past. He had to admit, that part had been pretty freakin' good. At one point, she was literally curled in a ball laughing hysterically after what had to have been their second bottle of wine and hundredth recollection.

"_Finn, don't…I swear if you…you paint me again—so help me God—you will be cut off," Rachel threatened as she backed up towards the newly painted wall; it didn't stop his approach. "Finn." _

"_Rachel," he replied mockingly as he dipped the paintbrush into the pan. "You started it." _

_Rachel shook her head, grabbing her own brush in defense. "I most certainly did not. It was an accident," she pled, but he watched as she eyed the paint pan next to her. It was full of bright blue paint. _

"_An accident, huh? Is that why my entire back has a giant streak?" Rachel let out a nervous giggle when she realized if she backed up any further she'd be covered with red paint. _

"_Yes, I…I was listening to music and didn't realize you were standing there. It was completely innocent." _

_He tapped his chin. "Hmmm…see, I find that hard to since I wasn't standing in front of you!" _

_Rachel glanced sideways looking to see if she could make a beeline to their bedroom, but his legs were longer and therefore faster. _

"_Oh no you don't…" he drawled as he grabbed her from behind, lifting her in the air. _

"_Finn, no…no please…you love me remember?" She pled as she kicked her legs wildly, unknowingly wiggling against his groin. _

"_Don't try and use the 'love me' routine. You're going down," he growled playfully in her ear. He ran his paintbrush from the top of her shoulder and down her arm. She wiggled in his arms, finally breaking his hold, and stomped her foot in a huff._

"_Fine. You want to play…" She dipped her brush back in the tray and flung it in his direction. "Then let's play." _

_He glanced down his now paint-splattered body, then narrowed his eyes in response. His wife wanted to play…__well… clearly,__ she had no clue who she was messing with. She must have seen his lips curve into a wicked smile because her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect little 'o' before taking off in the other direction. However, with the ground covered in newspaper, she slid and ended up on her ass. _

"_Truce?" She giggled and held her hand out to him. He sighed…he was such a sucker. When he reached for her, she slapped the wet brush into his hand and tried scrambling to her feet. _

"_You cheater," he snorted; he scooped up the entire pan of paint and poured it over her hot little head.. She looked up and pushed her paint soaked hair away from her face; he could have sworn he heard her fucking growl. He probably should have been mad, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing. _

_She stood up and with a wicked smile of her own sauntered over towards him. _

"_Baby, you know what?" She whispered, tracing her paint-covered hand across his t-shirt covered abdomen. _

"_What?" He croaked. They had only been married for two months and he was sure now he would always lose himself in her touch. _

"_This…means…war…" she breathed before launching herself at him, tackling him to the ground. After the initial shock of such a tiny thing being able to take him down he noticed that she was straddling his lap with a triumphant look on her face. _

"_What?" He croaked out for the second time, totally focused on the fact she was on his lap, pressed directly against him. She glanced down and gestured to his body. _

"_I won," she said, crossing her arms in triumph. He looked down and saw his entire body was covered in paint. _

"_Babe, you forgot one thing," he said, complete with an 'I know something you don't' smile. _

"_What?" She asked, a little wary of where he could be going. He gripped her hips and swiftly flipped them over so he was hovering over her. _

"_I'm still bigger than you." _

_She glanced away and bit her lip. _

_Yeah, he was a total goner._

And he could still just _feel _her, so _of course _he heard her shuffling around the hotel suite around what had to be two in the morning. He cracked open one eye, watching as she hustled around the room and felt his breath catch in his throat when she paused to look at him. He couldn't be sure, but it didn't look like she was checking to see if he was sleeping. In fact, her eyes roamed his entire body before glancing back towards her bed. He could have sworn he heard her sigh and mutter something about the bed, but she shook her head and ran to the bathroom.

On one hand, he really didn't want to listen to her conversation. It was more for _his_ sake than hers because he knew she was talking to Puck and that was the last fucking thing he wanted to hear; there were _reasons_ they had agreed not to talk to other men or women. On the other hand, he needed to know what the competition was. He needed to know how close they actually were, to see if he had a chance in hell of destroying their relationship—even if he wasn't sure what the ultimate goal was anymore.

He knew he didn't want to be with her. _He didn't, alright? The more he said it, the more he might actually believe it._ He also wasn't sure if he wanted her to hurt as bad either, though. She seemed to have genuinely fond memories of their marriage, so maybe it _had _meant _something_ to her. She seemed to really hurt over its ending, too; maybe she wasn't just a cold-hearted bitch like he'd thought for so long.

Still, she had cheated and wouldn't own up to it. _How bad could she really feel about the whole situation?_ Then, on top of it all, some other guy was involved now; a guy he had no fucking clue how to deal with. _Caleb_. What kind of guy would get involved with a woman who was_ married_ but living with a man she wasn't married to. Did the Caleb guy even _know _about him or Puck?

_Maybe this was all a fucking show._ God, she had his thoughts running in circles; he was probably right where she wanted him.

He heard her whisper something as the bathroom door opened and he knew she was checking to see if he was asleep. _Yeah, she totally knew she was breaking the rules. Fuck her._ He closed his eyes tightly and slowed his breathing down 'til the door closed again. He let out a ragged breath and pushed himself off the tiny couch. Fuck it—he was sleeping in the damned bed; screw the whole 'gentleman' thing. If she wasn't going to show some basic fucking courtesy, then he wouldn't either.

As he approached the door, he felt his heart slamming against his chest. He just…he was going in because the curiosity was going to kill him more than anything. He prepared himself for hearing her say she loved Puck, or she missed him, but he couldn't prepare himself for what he actually heard.

He _never_ thought she would be so fucking heartless as to sing the song she first sang to him on their wedding night of all nights—he didn't give a shit who she was talking to. Some shit was sacred and should've been off limits.

He blinked back those fucking tears _again_. God, why couldn't he just _forget_? It just…it didn't matter what he tried anymore. Drinking, fucking, sleeping…he somehow always fucking _remembered_. Even, apparently, when he was just _listening_.

"_By the __power invested in me by the great__ State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." _

_Finn didn't need to be told twice he scooped her in his arms and slammed his mouth on hers. She giggled momentarily and he knew it was nerves, but as soon as his tongue brushed against the seam of her lips she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and melded against him. _

_He didn't do things so hastily. Hell, this was beyond hastily, this was something out of a movie, but it wasn't. He was kissing his wife. A woman he had met and fell in love with instantly. _

_When they heard the chaplain clear his throat, they finally broke apart. Rachel smiled against his chest then looked over at the man who had just married them._

"_Sorry. I…" _

"_Don't apologize, young lady. I've seen worse. In fact, you two are probably one of the few couples I am actually pleased to have married." _

_Rachel smiled and looked up at Finn, mouthing 'I love you' when their eyes met. He kissed her forehead then led her out of the gaudy chapel on the Las Vegas strip._

"_I…I can't believe we did this," she whispered, clutching onto his arm as they walked down the insanely busy street. _

"_Do you regret it or anything? I mean, we could go have it annulled and…" _

_Rachel stopped in front of him. "No, I'm not saying I regret marrying you. I…I just never thought it would happen like this for me. I mean, I don't even know what kind of ice cream you like and now…now we're married. It all just seems like…"_

"_Like a movie?" _

_She smiled;__ it wasn't so bad if he could finish her sentence with the same thought.__ She clutched his arm and leaned her head against him. _

"_Chocolate," he said casually as he opened the door to a restaurant. She looked up at him with pure devotion._

"_Chocolate," she echoed with a nod and followed him to the noisy room filled with drunk couples performing really bad karaoke, although they all seemed to be taking a break. _

"_Oooooh, Finn…come on! Do you sing?" She squealed, dragging him inside and then going immediately to the song selection book. _

"_Not in public," he whispered against her ear, as his arms wrapped around her from behind. "But you like to, right?" _

_She turned and stared at him with an incredulous expression. "'Do I like to? Oh, wow. You have so much to learn about me," she replied teasingly, then clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, I…I have the perfect song!" _

_She turned, kissed him quickly then dragged him to a table closest to the empty stage. "You sit here." _

_He saluted her with a smile. "Yes, Ma'am." _

_She giggled and kissed him again, but pulled away before he could further it then bounded towards the MC. _

"_Ladies and Gentleman, seems like we have an up and coming Broadway star on our hands, or so she tells me, and she would like a turn." _

_The crowd clapped and whistled as she stepped up on stage beaming. _

"_Thank you for the lovely introduction. My name is Rachel Berr…"She paused and looked over at Finn, "Actually my name is Rachel Berry-Hudson, because as a star I must have name recognition. Sorry honey, I know we didn't discuss this," she said, her aside pointed directly to Finn. He laughed and mouthed for her to continue. She nodded and held the microphone to her lips. "I would like to dedicate this song to my new husband. I hope you like your wedding present." _

_He watched as she seemed to get lost in the music; her eyes closing before looking at him smiling; then she sang and his heart literally stopped. Her voice was angelic but powerful and, from the look on everyone's faces, they were just as mesmerized by her. _

_However, none of them mattered; he knew she was singing directly to him. His wife…_

"_Close your eyes, give me your hand darling. Do you feel my heart beating, do you understand? Do you feel the same, or am I only dreaming…or is this burning an eternal flame? I believe it's meant to be darling. I watch when you are sleeping, you belong with me…" _

_He watched in awe as she worked the crowd, all the while her eyes never left his and when she finally came to the end, she walked off the stage and stood right before him and he could feel every emotion pouring out of her._

"…_do you feel the same, or am I only dreaming…is this burning an eternal flame?" _

He shook his head, desperately wanting to clear the memory, at the same time the door knob started turning. He wasn't ready to confront her. He didn't want to face it himself, so he ran in a panic to the couch. He would just pretend to sleep and deal with whatever this shit was tomorrow. He wasn't ready.

He heard her stumble back towards the bed, but instead of being quiet she was sobbing hysterically and his first thought was wanting to beat the shit out of Puck for making her cry. _God, he was seriously fucked up. He wanted to hurt the guy, who stole his wife in the first place, for hurting her._ He opened one eye and saw her sit on the edge of the bed, her eyes trained on his supposedly-sleeping form. He thought he saw her stand momentarily as if she was going to come over to him, but she sighed and crawled back into the bed again. He should have—could have—just closed his eyes and buried his head in a pillow to drown out her tears, but he didn't; he just actually _couldn't_. Instead, he stood up and crossed the room to the bed.

"Move over," he ordered softly, no bite in the gruff words.

"You…you don't…have to…" she whimpered, sliding over despite her weak protest. He let out a ragged breath and slid underneath the covers beside her.

"I know I don't have to, but I can't sleep if you're crying, so…" He argued and even _he_ knew it was pathetic. _He couldn't see her hurt because of someone else._

She nodded and murmured her thanks as she curled into a ball next to him. He _knew_ he should've left well enough alone. _Fuck, she sang their wedding song to another guy_; she just looked and sounded so broken he couldn't stop himself from reaching out.

"C'mere." He lifted his arm slightly and she looked over at him timidly, but crawled over to curl her entire body against him. He shuddered at the contact, not because he didn't want it but because he still _did_, despite everything she had done to him. He wrapped his arm around her and lowered his lips to the crown of her head.

"Night, Rach."

She didn't answer because she had already fallen asleep in his arms.

He groaned. _At least one of them would get some sleep tonight_.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N from Jann: We are still totally blown away by the response to this story and so grateful for all the support. It feels almost wrong to say how much fun I've had with something this twisty, but seriously, writing with my partner is the best thing ever. But honestly, thank you a thousand times for the follows, alerts, reviews, replies, reblogs, likes, etc. And um... you know. Keep 'em coming.

A/N from Jen: My amazingly articulate co-author has said it all. Thank you so much for supporting our dark and twisted endeavor. It truly has been so much fun to explore a darker Finn and Rachel while challenging ourselves to keep them in character. We hope you enjoy this chapter.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: No we do not own Glee, bet you are glad about that lol.

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><p>"<em>Finn, please…please don't do this," she begged, holding Caleb in her arms. <em>

"_Don't do this? You…__**you**__did this. You kept him from me," Finn growled as he lifted their bawling son from her arms._

"_I know…I'm sorry, so sorry, but he…he doesn't know you. You're a stranger to him." She tugged at his arm, only to step back when she saw the unadulterated venom in his eyes. _

"_And whose fault is it that my own son doesn't know me?" _

_She knew he was right. It was her fault, but Caleb was her son; he was her life and he was dying. She couldn't lose him. Not now. She was going to lose him anyway, but she wasn't ready for it to happen yet—and she didn't want it to be like this._

"_Finn, please don't take him. Please. He is __sick__. He…he needs me." _

"_He doesn't need you. He'll have me–his father." _

_Rachel shook her head, the tears pouring down her face. She would have done anything to turn back the clock. She would have given anything to go just go back and make him listen all those years ago. She could do that retroactively if she wished hard enough, couldn't she? Just…just will a new today into existence? She blinked and knew there was no way. She was here. It was now. This was happening. _

"_Finn, he's terrified. Just, please…at least let me say goodbye to him. Let me explain that I love him and you…" she pled with him, stumbling a little and almost falling to her knees. "He's all I have left of…you…of us." _

"_You…you did this to all of us. You should have told me!" His voice was ice and he was stroking their son's sandy brown hair. She inched forward slowly towards them._

"_I…I know and I tried Finn. I did; you wouldn't listen to me," she cried. _

"_When did you try to tell me? Was it when you were screwing my ex-best friend? After, maybe?" _

_Rachel shook her head and grabbed his arm. "No, I never slept with him—not once. The night you found us I was so sick. He…he found me in the bathroom and helped me to bed. He was scared for me because I…I thought I was dying and you…you were never around and we couldn't reach you. He stayed with me, said he'd stay until you came home and he fell asleep. I swear. I never was with him. Why won't you believe me?" She said, finally breaking down in front of him. "I didn't…I…I…could never betray you like that, but you so easily believed the worst of me…I…I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but please…please don't punish me by taking away our baby, please." _

_She saw him look at their son and blink back tears. Maybe she had gotten through to him…maybe._

"_Well, even if it's true you were never intimate with him, you still lied. You still kept my son from me and gave him Puck's name…no, you…you will __never__ see him again." _

_Her world was crumbling around her and all she could do was watch him take her baby…take her life. She finally felt her knees go weak as she fell to the ground sobbing._

"_Please, please don't take him…please…please, Finn, I…I'm sorry…" _

She woke up to the feel of his familiar warm hands gently stroking her hair.

"Rach, wake up…please…I'm not taking anyone away, please wake up," he whispered over and over again. Once she even sort of realized what was going on, it startled her enough that she sat up and curled away from him, clutching the blanket tightly and balled into her fist right at her throat.

"What…where's Caleb?" She demanded, disoriented and terrified.

_He had taken her child and now…_

Oh, God; it was a nightmare and now he was staring at her in complete shock.

"Rachel, I…I, who's Caleb?"

Rachel shook her head and stumbled to her feet. "No one. I…I had a dream and…no one. I need to take a shower," she stammered as she bolted for the bathroom; he was faster. He hovered over her, holding the door shut with one hand.

"That was no dream. You were _begging_ me not to take Caleb and saying how sorry you were, over and over. I…I think I have the right to know what's up with all this."

She couldn't tell him. She knew her dream was a premonition and he would take their son (the son whom she was risking everything for, the son she loved more than life itself) from her.

_He couldn't have him. That's all there was to it. _

"You…you gave up the right to know anything about my life when you tossed me aside. Now let me go," she said, choking on tears she refused to cry.

He spun her to face him with a gentle hand on her arm and searched her eyes. "What are you so fucking afraid of?"

She turned her face and shook her head. "Nothing. I…I just had a bad dream and you're overcomplicating it. Caleb isn't anyone you need to worry about, so can…can you please drop it?"

He stepped back and stabbed his fingers through his hair. "Does _he_ know about Caleb?"

Rachel stared at him, confusion plain on her face. "Who are you talking about?"

"You know damned well who I'm talking about! Does Puck know about this Caleb guy?"

She swallowed hard and looked him right in the face as she answered. "Yes. He knows all about him. Is that what you want to hear? Noah and I live together, Finn. Of course he knows and he…he has…" She struggled in a strangled whisper.

He cut her off when he grabbed her shoulders. He wasn't hurting her, wasn't holding too hard, but his grasp was firm enough he was looking straight at her and straight through her.

"He _what_?" He choked out, his face now only a breath away from hers. She tried to turn away, but he was too close.

He needed these answers; he knew he needed them because he needed to get the fuck over it already and he couldn't do that unless he knew the whole story. He'd been going back and forth all night, dancing on a dangerous line. He was too unguarded around her, too confused to keep up appearances, and he was so tired of trying to figure out what it all meant. He couldn't figure anything out until he had all the pieces to work with.

"Please, please don't do this. It isn't going to change anything."

He held her firm. "Do you love him?" He asked hoarsely.

It was just _too much_, he knew it was too much, because the emotions were too raw and too real. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't stop himself. And he wasn't going to let up until she just answered him. He already knew the answer, but he had to hear it from her if he had any hope of getting through all this at some point. Basically, that was like the _only_ thing he knew was true.

Well…that and maybe he'd been a tad stupid years ago. Stupid to fall in love. Stupid to trust her. Stupid to marry her.

He just needed to know if he'd been stupid to let her walk away; fuck that—he basically _pushed_ her away as hard as he could. He thought it'd been for his survival, but now he just had no idea. He didn't know if he could survive the words leaving her mouth. He didn't know if he would survive if she didn't just admit it already. All he knew was that she was begging with her eyes before she begged in words.

"Finn, please…"

"Do you?" His grip on her tightened a little, more of a squeeze than a hold. She saw from the pained look on his face that he already knew the answer. They were pressed together so tightly she felt his inhale and his muscles clench like he was just bracing himself.

"Yes. I…I love him," she admitted, knowing her expression must have mirrored his in some way. She expected him to pull away, to walk away. She needed him to, but he didn't. Instead, his hands left her shoulders and moved her face, the touch more tender than she thought he could manage with as wound up as he was.

"Like you loved me?" His voice was tender, too; it was broken. She wanted to lie because she knew that would basically be the end of it. She should have lied, but when she looked in his eyes, she saw all the vulnerability laid bare; he was the same boy she fell in love with somewhere down in there, mixed in with everything else.

"No," she finally admitted, the word barely even a whisper it was so soft. She knew he was going to kiss her and she knew it would change everything. He closed the minuscule gap between them, brushing his lips against hers with a feather light touch; if she hadn't actually seen it and felt it, she might have thought she imagined it.

"Tell me who he is," he breathed as his fingers traced her jaw, nudging her lips apart, so he could gently kiss each one. She could have told him and dealt with the consequences, but her fear was too real, so palpable it had the power to dictate her actions. She couldn't take the risk, not when she was close to saving her son.

"I…I can't. Please understand," she begged. He swallowed hard and stepped back.

She saw the change as his features hardened and she knew she'd lost him again—at least the part of him she recognized. All she could see was pain; pain she was putting there.

"I'm sorry," she said. Even watching him shut down, she knew all her emotions were right on the surface. She was begging him to understand.

He shook his head and silently walked to his bag, still not answering and now apparently even unwilling to make eye contact.

"Wait, where are you going?" She asked, panic-stricken. He couldn't walk out on _her_. The one saving grace in everything was he hadn't actually walked away from her. He had been cold and unyielding and a thousand other things, but he'd never walked away. He had stayed basically right where she left him.

"This was a mistake. I…I…I have to go," he said, unable to look at her. He knew what she would see if he did, and he couldn't admit the hurt or anything else. He had to just keep a hard line and if he looked at her again, he would fucking lose it. And he wasn't even sure what _it_ was anymore.

"But…but, you can't…please, I…need…" She stammered.

"You need the money, right? Don't worry; a deal is a deal and I still know how to keep promises or whatever the fuck you'd call it. A contract, maybe? Doesn't matter, I'll wire it to you. I'll have my secretary call you on Monday and we won't have to speak ever again." He replied, his voice finally cracking as he spoke the last part. The only part he didn't _want_ to be true. The part he needed to be true now more than ever.

"Finn, please, please don't do this, don't walk away, not now…not yet." She knew he should; she knew it was safer for him to go but she didn't want to lose him. Not yet. It was too late and too soon and just _too much_.

"I…I can't go through this with you again," he wavered and then barked as he shoved the remaining belongings into the bag with as much force as he knew the leather could take.

"Go through _what_ again, exactly? I didn't do what you accused me of back then, so I don't…"

"You _broke_ me. I'm totally messed up…totally _fucked_ because of you. Don't you get it? You…God, I…I thought I could do this, so I could finally move on and maybe just _feel_ something, but I don't…I don't want to feel. It hurts too much and I can't breathe and I can't think and so I'll give you the divorce and the money as promised and I'm just _out._ I can't breathe. I…goodbye, Rachel."

She stood frozen as he headed to the door and suddenly it seemed all too familiar. It felt too much like repeating a mistake. She was more afraid of failure than she was of talking.

"Wait! I..I'll tell you." She shouted then shrunk back against the wall. _Did she really want to risk everything in the hopes he might not walk away? _

"Everything about _everyone_… including _Caleb_?" He asked softly. There was no mistaking his forceful undertone, though. It was fight or flight and he was barely even giving her one more chance for the first one.

"Yes, I…I 'll tell you everything, but you have to promise to listen, Finn." When he turned around and then opened his mouth to argue, she held up her hand. "I mean _really_ listen. No more assumptions. No interruptions. Just the truth."

He nodded and slowly reentered the room taking the seat across from the couch. He dropped his bag to the ground but left his hand clasped around the handles, and when he sat, he was crouched right on the edge of the coffee table and his posture was so tense it looked as though he might spring up at any second if she said something he didn't like.

"So, who's Caleb?" He asked as she sat down on the couch, across from him. Even his jaw was so tense it barely moved to form the words to yet another question he didn't really want to ask her and the words tasted wrong leaving his tongue. He swallowed the nauseous anticipation back down and fought to steady his breathing while he wanted for her answer.

She ran her hands over her face and wiped away more tears. _God, would she ever stop crying?_

"First, I need you to understand that I _never_ slept with Noah." He sucked in a sharp breath, and brought his head up, making intense, painful eye contact.

"I know what I saw," he managed. He was asking her to explain even though he couldn't actually form the question _again_.

Rachel swallowed and decided, since he was sort of actually listening, she needed to ease him into the truth. The whole truth. Nothing but the truth; but could God really even help her now?

"No, you know what you _assumed _you saw. Do you remember me telling you I was sick?"

He nodded in acknowledgment. "You said you had the flu."

Rachel sighed and continued. "Yes, and when I said I was sick, I meant I was ill to the point I honestly thought I was dying. I couldn't hold anything down for _weeks_, Finn, and…and well the night you found me in bed with Noah, he'd found me all but unconscious on the bathroom floor."

"Are you telling me he took advantage of you? Is that actually your defense?" He spat out in disbelief.

She rubbed her temples, feeling another tension headache building. "No," she breathed. "He didn't take advantage of me. He never would have done that to _you_. Well, to either of us, really." He scoffed, but she continued. "He found me passed out because I hadn't been able to eat anything in days and he took care of me because…"

"Because why?" He countered. She was starting to feel sick.

"Because you weren't around, Finn—you were _never_ around."

"I was working my ass off so we could get the hell out of that shitty apartment. Remember that? It's not like I was out just fucking off, Rachel."

"I…I know, and I also know you were going to school, but it doesn't change the fact that I…I _needed_ you. I…" She said. She hesitated, not sure how much to admit when he was still so openly skeptical, and he took the opportunity to break in.

"If I remember correctly, you were in that stupid play, right? Wasn't it that one where you took your clothes off _on stage_?"

Her shoulders sagged in defeat. He would never believe her.

"Finn, it was just a _show_. It was my first real run and I didn't take my clothes off. I…I if you aren't going to listen, then why are we rehashing this? Are you going to hear me out or…?"

"No, go on," he grumbled.

She nodded and her eyes closed slightly. She hated these headaches and they seemed to come on more and more frequently these days. He must have noticed because she felt the couch dip slightly as he sat down next to her.

"Are….are you okay?" He asked softly, his fingers brushing against her forehead.

"Mmmm…yea, I….that feels nice," she sighed as he maneuvered her into his lap.

_This was the man she fell in love with. __He__ wouldn't take Caleb. _

"I didn't strip, Finn; it was a very quick, minor scene and I always wore the bodice. I was never naked."

"It didn't stop…it doesn't matter anymore. Just keep going."

"I wanted you to be the first to know, but you weren't there; even when Noah tried calling you, your cell was off and…"

"What did you want me to know?" He asked, his voice low and right next to her ear. "I was in meetings because I was actually getting my first client. You _know_ how busy it was for me. I wasn't, like, _avoiding_ you guys or anything."

"I…I know and I tried to be understanding, I really did, but when you _were_ home we fought and you stopped wanting to make love to me and I…I'm sorry I didn't try hard enough to get through to you, but…" She said, her voice slipping as she cried a little more. She finally just whispered, hoping she could get the words out. "We weren't supposed to turn out like this. I…thought we were meant to be…"

He stopped caressing her hair and she opened her eyes slightly, the light still painful.

"I heard you earlier."

She sat up and pulled away a little bit, confused. "When?"

"You were in the bathroom. I…you woke me up."

She jumped to her feet, wincing slightly at both the implications of what he'd said and the throb her head gave at the movement.

"_What_? You were _pretending_ to sleep so you could… what… _spy on me_?"

"I heard you! I heard you _singing,_" he confessed. He stood up, taking pleasure in his height because it gave him _some _feeling of leverage. "Damn it Rachel, did I mean that fucking little to you? You claim you loved me, that you tried to convince me, but what the hell do you want me to think?" He demanded, the anguish in his voice coming through crystal clear.

"No, you…you meant everything to me. You don't understand. I wasn't singing that song to Noah…I…" She stopped mid-sentence when her cell phone buzzed from the nightstand across the room.

"_Don't_. Please don't answer him," he half-ordered and half-pleaded.

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I…I have to. I'm sorry," she whispered, and quickly stepped to retrieve her phone.

"If you answer him, we have _no hope_ for any future."

She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I... I just hope you'll understand one day."

He fell back on the seat, his mouth open but not really taking in air. His lungs burned and he could feel _something_ tickling at the back of his throat. He couldn't hear her frantic and whispered words when she turned away from him; between her volume and the blood rushing in his ears, he couldn't hear a fucking thing. But he could see just fine, he wasn't crying or anything, and he watched her go pale and dropped her phone even as she dropped onto the bed.

"What? Rach, what happened?" He asked immediately, forgetting his veiled threat as he jumped off the couch and crossed the room in long strides. He tried to wrap his arms around her, but had barely gotten there and felt how hard she was trembling before she pushed away.

"I…I have to go. I…was supposed to have more time, but…but I have to go before…I have to go," she stammered, blindly grabbed her belongings as she moved around the room in a whirlwind.

"Rach, _stop._ What the hell is going on? _Are you okay_?"

She shook her head and ran towards the door.

"I…I'll call you when I…can you please wire the money? I know you don't trust me and I wish I could explain, but…but please. Just, I have to go."

He was frozen. _All she wanted was the money. She didn't offer any I love yous, no promises…and the only promise she wanted was a paycheck._

"Fine," he agreed flatly.

She nodded with her hand on the door, but surprised them both when she turned, ran back to him, and then kissed him with every ounce of emotion she could muster.

She pulled away before reality could set in for either of them. "I love you. No matter what _has_ happened or what _might_ happen, you need to know that. You can at least be sure of that one thing, Finn. I've always loved you and I probably always will."

He couldn't speak, her words seeping into him, eating like acid and burning about the same; words she had spoken before he pushed her out of his life five years ago.

Words he couldn't say back either time because he couldn't even breathe.

"Where are you going?" He finally got out, just before the door closed.

"Philadelphia."

When the door finally closed, he fell back onto the chair. He looked down at his left hand, running his finger over where the gold band used to sit.

He didn't know what was waiting for her in Philly _now_, but he sure as hell needed to find out.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you to everyone for all of the wonderful feedback and support. We truly cannot tell you how much we appreciate it (please keep it coming!). Words of caution…buckle up, because it is going to be a very bumpy ride.

Rated: T for language

Disclaimer: We do not own Glee, just our story.

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><p>"<em>What happened<em>? Everything was okay last night," Rachel asked, running into Noah's arms breathlessly as soon as she burst into the hallway in the cardiac center ICU.

He shook his head and kissed the crown of her head. "I…I don't know. One minute he was doin' fine, or at least as fine as he ever is, and the next he couldn't breathe and they hooked up all these new lines and monitors and stuff." One of his hands left her shoulder to wave towards the extra equipment. Given what they were _used_ to seeing around their little boy, it was just overwhelming to see more.

She counted three new drug pumps and a different respirator than he'd ever had before. Even just that made it hard for her to speak. "I am so sorry I wasn't here. Is…is he in any pain?" She choked out as she broke free from the embrace to peek into her son's hospital room through the large window in the hallway. She knew better than to try and barge in to be with him while they ran tests; she could see the pediatric cardiologist in there and she _knew_ how precious that particular face time was with the busy guy. She had been in this position more times than she could count. She felt his hands on her shoulders kneading the tense muscles. His usually skilled hands weren't working their normal magic and she fought the urge to shrug off his touch. She folded her arms against her chest and just watched.

"No, they gave him some of the good stuff. He just… he needs the transplant."

Rachel swallowed hard, pushing back every impassioned reply that balanced on the edge of her tongue. She knew when it came to Noah, it was wasted breath; he knew how she felt and he felt the same way. "I know; did they give you any idea of how much longer he has before…" She did shrug, his hand sliding down her back, and she shook her head to keep the morbid thoughts at bay.

_Her baby wasn't going to die before her. She wouldn't allow it. _

"Nah. I mean, you know as well as I do what the cards are like. He's at the top of the list, but it isn't like someone can just offer a heart."

She looked up at him and nodded slightly. "Does it make me a horrible person to wish some other child doesn't make it… and they are a match? D…does it?" She squeaked turning in his arms, finally accepting the full press of his tight hug.

"No, it just makes you a mom of a very sick little boy; a mom who would do _anything_ to save him." Rachel nodded against his chest. "You didn't do _anything_…did you?"

Rachel looked away from his whisper, hearing his meaning as loud as if he'd yelled the words in her ears. "I…I don't know what you're talking about." It didn't stop her from stepping away from him a little, though. _He_ didn't know what he was talking about—she was just pretending she didn't know. And she couldn't in good conscience accept his comfort while she was lying to him.

He took her hand and led her to the plastic chairs in the small waiting area.

"Who are you trying to fool? You…did…_did you sleep with him_? Is that how you got him to give you the money?"

Rachel felt her stomach churn as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. "_No._ Regardless—it's _none_ of your business," she spat. She turned away from a second, heart pounding in her chest and only fueling her anger, but just as suddenly, she totally deflated and then grabbed his hand, noticing the shock on his face when she turned back toward him. "Oh, I….I'm sorry, I…I can't seem to do anything right and Caleb is fighting for his life and…"

"Hey, hey…" he breathed, still spinning a little. He knew that had to be next to nothing compared to whatever she'd gone through. There was only so much he could theoretically even comfort her for as she sat, nearly hyperventilating and her voice growing thick with tears. "You are an awesome mom. Caleb is the luckiest boy in the world. So, stop…okay? The rest just doesn't matter at the end of the day," he replied earnestly, cradling her face much in the way Finn had just a few hours prior.

_What the hell was she doing? _She nodded and gently took his hands in hers.

"Thank you."

He shrugged and helped her to her feet. "For what?"

She leaned up and kissed his cheek softly, her lips lingering against his skin. "For everything. Just _thank you_."

He smiled, but she could see it didn't quite reach his eyes, which saddened her immensely; however, everything else faded away when the cardiologist exited Caleb's room and approached them. Time stood still in the brief moment it took for him to approach; she knew the look on his face and it wasn't particularly promising.

"Okay, so he's comfortable for now, but…but we don't have much time. He's officially top of the transplant list, but really all that means is more waiting. He's living on borrowed time and I can't make any guarantees as to how long that will last."

_Waiting game…not much time_. His intense, quiet words whirled around her as the room began to spin. They needed more time or a miracle…maybe a little bit of both.

"Is, is there _anything_ we can do?" Rachel pleaded frantically, thankful Noah was holding her up when her knees started to buckle.

"Rachel, we knew this day was going to come. I don't want to sound insensitive, but if we don't get a donor, you will want to make the necessary arrangements." Dr. Stone (his name was not extremely apt; he'd been Caleb's doctor from day one and she actually really adored him, even if she wanted him to stop talking and stop being so fucking calm) reached out and squeezed her shoulder gently.

Rachel shrugged off both of them, shook her head, and pushed past on her way to see her son.

"You will _not_ talk about _my son_ like he is a lost cause. He _will _survive this and if you can't stay positive than maybe you shouldn't be his physician anymore. Excuse me," she said, not trying to hide her tears or mask her despair.

"Rachel, please understand I am not saying there is no hope left. But I can't see the future and I don't know what tomorrow will bring, even if I sincer—"

"_No_! He…he has a whole wonderful life. He is my bright and beautiful boy and he deserves to…he will grow up to be a wonderful man like…"she looked over at Noah and said brokenly, "like his father and…and I will see him graduate from college and get married….he…he won't…"

She didn't know what she was saying; she wasn't really saying much and the room was still spinning, faster and faster around her and making her feel sick and she definitely wasn't breathing properly and suddenly… everything was just _gone_.

* * *

><p>Finn didn't bother with a driver; it just didn't seem like there was time. He needed to get to Philadelphia and find Rachel <em>now <em>and his head was absolutely spinning in circles, going faster and faster as more time passed. What the hell was _wrong_ with her? She'd said she thought she had more time. _More time for what?_ Was she still sick? Was that what the money was for? If it was, why didn't she just tell him? _Why go through with his asinine plan?_ 'Cause that's exactly what it seemed like it was now—it was all stupid. The only thing that mattered was getting to her and he'd figure out the rest and sort out the labels later. Who was at fault for what, what had been a mistake and what had been a misunderstanding, just… it didn't matter. He knew whatever she was dealing with was probably life and death. She was normally dramatic and all, but the way she looked, the way she'd sounded, the way she'd _left_ it; played over and over in his mind like a broken record and it made him feel like there was ice in his veins and a knife in the bottom of his stomach.

Maybe she just wanted a weekend with him, too. _One last, good memory between them before_ …oh, God what if she was really dying? He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand as he weaved through the highway traffic, knowing he was speeding but he didn't care. And no, he had no idea how _fast_ he was actually going, he just knew it wasn't fast _enough_.

He had his secretary calling every hospital in or around Philadelphia, but so far she'd had no luck searching for a Rachel Berry, Berry-Hudson, Hudson, or even Rachel Puckerman (he'd cringed as the third possible last name left his mouth). The very idea she might be using _his_ name made him want to vomit. He wracked his brain for any clues as to what was wrong with her, but other than the headaches and her phone call he had _nothing_. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack with about a million and a half needles. Or if he felt like he was being optimistic, he was looking for up to three needles 'cause he still had no idea who _Caleb_ was. Whatever. He guessed he could've called her fathers, but there was no way they'd _help_ him. He was dead sure they'd sided with her in the not-a-divorce.

No, he was on his own.

He pulled over to get another cup of coffee, which was probably optional with the adrenaline overload he was working on, when his phone buzzed with a text from an undisclosed number. He usually ignored those (one-night stands were sometimes all about the random text message if they found his real number somehow), but something in the pit of his stomach—not the coffee—made him open it. He hoped it was Rachel. However, when he read the text he didn't know what to think because it was almost in _code_. Or like a language he didn't know how to speak or even _deal with_.

CHOP – CCICU – 4

What the hell was _CHOP_? Was Rachel in an ICU, maybe, and someone was texting him? He was still legally her husband and, unless she'd signed over power-of-attorney, he was technically the one who should or would be contacted. He kinda doubted the hospital would send a cryptic text message, though. That didn't make sense and, without a return number, he had no clue who to call.

Then he remembered how much he had around to help him; he didn't have to figure it out because he was paying someone else to do it. He dialed his office.

"Hey, it's me. Anything?"

"No, sorry…I haven't found her and I've exhausted every avenue I can think of."

"Alright, keep looking. I _need_ to find her."

"Not to be a bitch, but why are you trying so hard?"

"She's my wife."

There was a brief silence. "A wife whom you failed to mention until she showed up here?"

"It's really none of your business. All you need to know is I'm trying to find her and I need your help to do it. The details are _mine. _"

"No, of course, Finn. I…I'll keep looking."

"Good, thank you. Oh and can you look up C-H-O-P for me? I think it's an acronym for a place in Philly, but…"

"Children's Hospital of Philadelphia?" She asked immediately, her voice spiking with curiosity again.

He slammed on the breaks, swerving onto the shoulder, ignoring the horn from the car that had been behind him on the thoroughfare.

A _children's _hospital? Why the hell…

Caleb.

She had a…she didn't want him to take…

No…no, she _wouldn't_…fuck. _Fuck_.

"Are…are you sure that is what it is?" He choked out, his mind racing with too many painful possibilities.

"Yes, positive. My sister's daughter had surgery a few years back and they picked CHOP because it's one of the best children's hospitals in the eastern United States, if not the entire country. Do you want the number? Or I can call and check something if you wish."

"No…no thank you." He swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat. It had been all he could do to choke out the end of the conversation. It just…so many things that didn't make sense before…they made sense now and he really didn't fucking want them to.

Because now even as everything suddenly made sense; they tore _everything_ apart.

He threw his phone against the dash and watched it shatter into several pieces (just like his life seemed to be) that flipped all over the car.

She had a _child_. A _sick_ child; one she was absolutely terrified of _him _taking from her for some reason.

A child she sang his…no, _their_…song to. He didn't want to think of the implications—he couldn't. Or he would _lose _it. His grip had been tenuous to begin with; he'd felt like she was slipping between his fingers and like everything he'd known about himself was going to go with her.

Now he knew—it had already been gone. He just couldn't think about it anymore than that. At the same time, he couldn't _stop _thinking about it. It was in motion and he couldn't stop it and the pieces kept coming, kept falling, and landing in a broken heap. Making everything more scrambled yet clearer all at the same time.

"_No, you…you meant everything to me. You don't understand. I wasn't singing that song to Noah…I…"_

She wouldn't keep his child from him regardless of how they ended, right? Who could do something like that?

"_Finn, this isn't what it looks like," she whispered as she approached him, steadying herself against a nearby wall. She looked so pale and so tiny and so sick. His fingers curled into his jeans, fighting the impulse to reach out to her. _

"_Really? Cause it looks like you just fucked my friend in our bed." _

_She shook her head._ _"No, I…I swear, he was just helping me." _

"'_Helping' you? Is that whatcha call it now?" He slurred, still feeling the effects of several shots of Jameson. "Cause as your husband, I was more than willing to 'help' you out." _

"_Finn, I…I, I was sick and I needed to tell you that, I'm…" she stammered softly swaying in her spot. He wanted to help her, hold her, but no, she was a cheat and a liar, so he just left her alone. He kinda wished Puck had extended him—and them—the same courtesy._

"_Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? Can't you see she can't even stand up on her own?" Puck shouted protectively as he helped ease Rachel—his wife, not Puck's wife—to the bed…their bed…the same bed she had just fucked him in. He watched in horror as his now ex-best friend, the ex-best friend he was so gonna kill, stroked his wife's hair and asked if she was okay in a low voice. _

_Who the fuck did he think he was?_

"_Get the fuck away from my wife." Finn growled. Puck stood his ground._

"_No! If you aren't gonna listen to her, then I'm not gonna leave her alone with you. 'Specially not when you're drunk off your ass. Go sleep on the couch and you two can work this shit out tomorrow. You need to listen to her. Nothing happened man, I wouldn't do that to you." _

"_Like hell you wouldn't. Is this payback for taking her from you in the first place?" _

_Puck laughed. The bastard actually laughed._ _"Took her from me? You really are fucking drunk. If I had really wanted her, like really, you wouldn't have stood a chance," he growled back closing the distance between them. _

"_She's __my__ wife." _

"_Yea, so stop being a fucking asshole and sleep it off. She needs you more than you can possibly understand. __**They **__need you, so…" Puck said patting Finn on the shoulder. He shrugged it off and headed towards the living room on unsteady feet._

Finn shook his head. Puck said **they** needed him. At the time, he thought Puck was referring to Rachel and himself, but _shit_. What if he was talking about...like it was DVD player or something, he fast forwarded through memories and years of bullshit to the conversation in his office.

"_And the money isn't for me. You made me leave with nothing except the clothes on my back, no funds of my own and pr…well, I didn't have any other alternative."_

God, she did it, she kept their child from him. He just…he… what the _fuck _did he do with that? What could he do? Nothing. He punched the steering wheel and he didn't feel any better.

Would punching her help? Not likely. Would punching Puck help?

Maybe a little.

Truthfully, he didn't know _what_ to do. He didn't understand. _How could she?_

* * *

><p>Rachel woke to the steady sound of Caleb's heart monitor echoing through the room. She hated the way the sound echoed against the linoleum floors; everything was so hard, so utilitarian. It wasn't a home. The tinny sound of the monitor pulled her awake and immediately grated on her ears even as she was grateful it was still there.<p>

She opened her eyes and looked around the darkened room. Her heart both swelled and broke when she saw Caleb's tiny sleeping body in the bed next to her. She scooted her chair over and rested her head on the edge of the mattress while her hand reflexively stroked his soft hair.

"Oh baby, mommy is so sorry. I…I tried, I…I…love you so much angel. Please, please just hold on a little longer for me."

He didn't answer, not even a sleepy little 'mama.' All that could be heard was the sound of his labored breathing and her quiet sobs.

She was losing him and she knew it.

* * *

><p>He pulled his car into the emergency room entrance, ignoring the shouting from parking attendants trying to show him with their arms that he was in a tow-zone. They could tow the car, impound it—what the fuck ever—<em>burn<em> it for all he cared. Nothing mattered except finding Rachel and figuring out what the hell was going on.

He raced through the corridors in search of the CCICU (what in the _hell_ was that?) only to be stopped by a security guard.

"Where ya goin?"

"I…I am trying to find my wife and…" He paused and his heart painfully constricted as the words left his mouth, "…and my…my son…he is…the CCICU…room 4, I think?" The guard's eyes softened as he led Finn to the nearest nurses' station.

"She can help you. Rita he's looking for his wife and kid. Can you help him out? CCICU 4." The young nurse smiled sympathetically and began running her fingers over the keyboard.

"Oh yes, poor baby. I have been his nurse on and off for the past 4 years. I…I am slightly confused though."

Four years? _His son had been sick his entire life? _

"I'm sorry, what? Why are you confused?" He said distractedly scanning the new and strange world he'd entered.

"Well, you said your wife and son, but Rachel has never mentioned you and…and well, Noah is…"

Finn spun around to face her.

No…_no_. He had every reason to believe Caleb was _his_ son, not…

"Wh…what did you say?" He asked hoarsely as he gripped the counter tightly. "Noah as in _Noah Puckerman_ is listed as his father? Is…is that what you're saying?"

The nurse smiled tightly and picked up the phone. "Give me one second to get his mess straightened out."

Finn knew she was probably calling security because who would believe this fucked up situation? No one in their _right_ mind because it _wasn't right_. It was straight out of a bad television mini-series.

He reached out to grab her hand, desperately trying to work up some of the charm he knew he'd laid on too thick with other women in the last few years. "Please, please, I know this sounds insane and I wouldn't believe it either, but…please. I _need_ you to help me."

The nurse stared at him and he saw her features soften. "I'm not supposed to do this. It violates every hospital and HIPPA rule out there. That's…that's _federal_." He nodded and grabbed his wallet out his back pocket. Her eyes widened in shock and she waved her hands in front of her frantically, as if to convey _not touching, not touching_ to people a hundred yards away. If he wasn't so sunken and so desperate, he might've actually laughed. "No, no I…I can't take a…"

He finally _did _laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation. He had two choices; it was either laugh or cry at this point, and he had a feeling he'd be doing plenty of the second one once he got where he was going. Even at that, his laugh was empty at best and it was almost scary to even his own ears.

"No, I'm not trying to bribe you. Here, take it and see…"

She took the small paper, a photograph, from his shaking hands and smiled sadly when she looked at it. "You two looked very happy."

He lowered his gaze to hers.

"We _were_," he breathed. "We…just…please. I _have_ to find them."

She handed back the small photo and gave him a visitor badge. "No one can know that I gave you this. _No one_," she said imploringly. He nodded in understanding and clipped it to his t-shirt.

"Thank you. Thank you," he said breathlessly. She smiled sadly again and nodded.

She pointed and issued the next statement quickly, in a low tone, with a discreet point in the general direction she was describing. "Fourth room on the right and for what it's worth…he really looks _just_ like you. "

For what felt like the millionth time that day felt like the air was completely sucked out of him. That answered so many questions—and he was pretty sure it was the answer he _hadn't_ wanted. Because for as much as it answered, it just pointed out a million others he needed to ask.

* * *

><p>She didn't know what to do with herself. The only bright spot in her life was fading and she couldn't help him or do anything to stop it from happening. She looked down at her phone and contemplated calling Finn. She had been <em>so close<em> to admitting everything, but the universe was never on her side, now was it? She had been so ill during her pregnancy she'd actually been hospitalized her for the last few months. She'd thought, after all their suffering, she would have a healthy baby boy to bring home, but no. They found the defect in utero, but hoped it would be correctable. They didn't determine it was irreversible until three surgeries later. Maybe she should have been grateful he'd lasted this long without the transplant, but she wasn't. Maybe she was just selfish, but it wasn't enough time with him—not enough time _for_ him. He hadn't experienced learning to ride a bike, or starred in a school play; he'd never been to an amusement park and eaten pounds of cotton candy, and he never had the chance to get to know his father. She buried her hands in her face and sobbed.

She'd failed her son. She'd failed Finn and she'd failed herself.

* * *

><p>Finn had never been in an ICU before, and he had to admit it was the most depressing place <em>ever<em>. They tried to make it all homey or whatever with pictures and warm colors, even carpet on the floor in some places, but it was sterile and lonely. That was just, like, the surface feeling. He looked over at the small waiting rooms to see families huddled together either praying, crying or just sitting in silence—and those feelings deepened to include despair, desperation, and just…just basically nothing _good_. There was another room off to the side of the waiting area, door closed, and he could see people moving around in the room through the frosted glass. He really, really never wanted to be the one on the other side of that door.

_God, had she had to experience this all on her own_? He would have been there with her every step of the way and it was freaking him out how it almost felt like a missed opportunity and an oversight he was grateful for all at once. He shook his head as he approached the darkened room wondering why in the hell he cared anyway—obviously she didn't give a shit about _him_ so…

He wasn't fucking here for _her_. He wasn't even there for _them._ He was here for his _son_. He knew at least that much now.

As his hand touched the cold metal handle he actually _debated_ going in. For the first time, he paused and for just a damned second wondered if this was actually a good idea. If she didn't _want_ him around, what had she told their son? Did he even know Finn existed or…or did he really think _Puck_ was his father? White hot and raging, fury washed over him, stabbing everything that had been blissfully numb and asleep for so long; it was a feeling that he now always seemed to associate with his ex-best friend, however distant it usually was.

"You got my text."

Finn spun around and came face-to-face with the man who destroyed his life, or at least the one he'd been busy blaming for the last five years.

"Puck."


	8. Chapter 8

Afternoon all! We wanted to thank you all again for all of the lovely reviews/comments/feedback. (please keep them coming). There are only 2 more chapters after this one. Thanks for sticking with it and well, be prepared for more bumps and remember rollercoasters are the best kind of rides! This chapter was inspired by the Andrew Belle song, _Signs of Life. _A special thank you to our lovely beta's!

Disclaimer: We do not claim to own Glee or any of its characters. We simply own our insanity!

* * *

><p>"Puck."<p>

The fucker's name was the last word he uttered before his fist came in contact with Puck's face.

"You wanna do this here?" Puck replied, wiping at the blood on his lip with his thumb.

It was amazing how the one question squashed all his confusion and left only flat, hard anger behind. He kinda wished he'd had that clarity yesterday; he could've walked away from this entire mess without… well… whatever.

"Yea, I kinda think I do," Finn spat before he punched Puck in the stomach, stepping back a little and shaking his hand as Puck doubled over. He kept his eyes on said former best friend, just waiting for the sucker punch or something else that could make him feel _any_ better. Justice wasn't supposed to feel empty.

"I'm not gonna fight you back," Puck sputtered as he tried to take in shallow breaths.

"Why…because you think you already won?" Finn growled angrily. Why the hell was he out of breath?

"_Won_? What the hell did you think this was…a contest or somethin'? I didn't win _shit_. If anything, I took on more heartbreak than one person can fuckin' handle!"

Finn balled his hands into fists to control his anger. "It wasn't your heartbreak to bear, now was it?" He hissed and Puck snorted in response.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" When Finn rolled his eyes Puck made a scoffing noise and jumped back to his feet, "She almost _died_. Did you know what?"

Finn looked away, unable to handle the scrutiny. He was the victim in all of this, not her, right? It was a shaky house of cards, but it was about all he had at this point.

"No, fuck you man. You _better_ Goddamn well listen. It's high past time you heard all this."

"Or what?" Finn spat, whipping his head back in Puck's direction.

"Or you're gonna lose them forever because you're a stubborn jackass. Once that happens, I'm not gonna feel guilty about trying to make her mine," Puck growled, stabbing his finger hard into Finn's chest.

"Don't touch me." Finn swiped at his wrist, slapping it away with sharp force.

Puck just laughed humorlessly. "Or what? You gonna punch me again? 'Cause I gave you two free shots already. I have _no_ idea where your head's at right now 'cause this situation is all fucked up, but no more freebies."

Finn threw his hands in the air. "I don't need this shit. I… you took my _life_. You fucked my wife and apparently _raised my_ _kid._"

Puck shook his head and ran his hand over his head. "You _honestly_ believe that?"

Finn swallowed; he didn't know what he believed anymore, really.

Puck seized on the moment of silence and the flash of doubt in Finn's eyes. "You don't, do you? You _know_ she didn't cheat on you. She…did she tell you about that night? Ya know, the one where you freaked out and got drunk off your ass after you found us?"

"She told me enough."

"Nah, man; you need to hear everything 'cause _you_ fucked up…not her. I came home that night and, well…"

"_Finn? Dude, you home yet?" Puck shouted as he entered the tiny two-bedroom apartment. "Rachel, you here?" He shrugged and went to the fridge to get a beer, which he needed after the hell night he had at the club. He popped it open and meandered through the apartment, flipping lights off as he headed to his room. _

_Kinda weird since Rachel was such a pain in the ass about leaving lights on. That's when he noticed the light coming from Finn and Rachel's room. He knocked lightly on the almost-closed door and it swung open. He always made it a point, not to go in their room unannounced cause he never knew what he was gonna stumble in on, but something about this whole thing made him feel really uneasy. _

"_Rach? You there babe?" He asked as he peered into the dark room to see the light was coming from their bathroom. He cleared his throat loudly in case she was in the shower or something, but there wasn't any response. He decided to go for broke and quickly walked in the small room to find Rachel curled in a ball, pale, shaking and obviously exhausted from throwing up. He didn't do the whole 'taking care of a chick' bit, but she was different. She and Finn were his best friends. So he tossed his shirt off, 'cause he was not getting any puke on it, and knelt down next to her. _

"_Shit Rach, what's wrong? You've been sick for weeks, but…you look like death." _

_She opened one eye which was blood shot. "I…call Finn, please," she squeaked weakly before shutting her eyes again. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. Normally she would have put up a fight, but tonight she just was limp in his arms. _

"_I think I need to get you to the hospital. There is that crazy flu thing going around and…" Rachel shook her head as much as she could and then rolled onto her side. _

"_Not the flu…please call him. I…I need to tell him." _

_He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit Finn's number. _

"_It went to voice mail." _

_Rachel nodded against the pillow. "Office number on my phone," she sighed and then lurched and began to dry heave. _

"_Shit, I don't do this," Puck whined as he called Finn's office number from her phone._

"_Hello, Finn's phone." _

"_Who the fuck is this?" Puck growled when he heard the unfamiliar female voice. _

"_Margo. And you are…?" Puck looked over at Rachel, who had passed out on the bed, and then he snuck out into the living area._

"_Where is Finn?" He spat when he heard her giggle. He __**knew **__that kind of fucking giggle._

"_He's busy." _

"_I don't care if he's rescuing babies from a burning building. You give him his fuckin phone __now__. This is an emergency." He heard her jabbering to someone and then come back on the line, "I'll tell him someone called. Bye." _

"_FUCK!" He tossed the phone on the couch and went back to their bedroom. "He must be in a meeting or something. I…do you want me to get you something?" _

_Rachel held out her hand. "Just stay with me please? I…think something is wrong with the baby…I…" She sighed before slipping back into unconsciousness. He stood there for a second with her hand in his, unable to move because he was choking on his disbelief. _

_She was pregnant and her husband, his best friend couldn't be bothered. _

"Couldn't be bothered? She never told me!"

"Yea, 'cause you fucking threw her out. Didn't you see how sick she was that night, or don't you remember anything?"

"I remember you jumping to her aid like I was going to hurt her—like I could _ever_ hurt her. I _loved _her."

"Right. That's why you could believe the worst about her, huh? You assumed the worst and I don't even know why! We _never_ would have done that!"

"It wasn't just that night! You…you were _always_ together. She confided in you when I was her husband…I _am_ her husband. _You_ went to her shows and took her to dinner. _You_ bought her gifts—like, real and familiar _gifts_ for no special reason—and shit. Combine that with what I saw and what the hell was I _supposed_ to think?"

"I think you should think you're an ass. I only did any of that because she was your wife and you weren't around! She confided in me about you, dumbass. She kept asking me if I thought you might have found someone else." When Finn let out a ragged breath Puck continued in a rush, growing more obviously agitated with every word. "Yea, she thought you were involved with someone else. She didn't think you wanted her anymore and then she got sick and could barely take care of herself, but you didn't even seem to notice. You with your new job and fancy parties…you just left her behind. That's what it looked like anyway."

"_Left her behind_? I asked her to go to every one of those lame parties with me but she was always busy with her show or school. I was the only guy whose wife was too busy for him. How the hell did you think that made _me_ feel? I finally started making it and she didn't want to share it with me. So yeah, I was pissed at her, but not _wanting_ her? Not _loving_ her? That's total garbage and it was never the way it was."

"You ever tell her that?"

"I shouldn't have had to. She and I …we were just always on the same page," Finn argued as he ran his hand through his hair.

_Was this all just one big fucking misunderstanding?_ If he'd misjudged _that_…well…

At the very least it changed everything. Again. He didn't know how much more of this he could handle.

"Look, I get it. It was a hard time for both of you, but dude, we _never_ had an affair. _Ever_. "

"It doesn't matter anymore. I…I don't want anything to do with her. I just need to see my son," Finn said solemnly.

"You don't mean that."

"Yea, I really fucking do. She kept my son from me! You both did. I'm done with both of you."

"Who're you trying to convince: you or me? 'Cause honestly, if you give her the divorce like I hope you do, she and I have a shot."

"She doesn't love you."

Puck shrugged. "She hasn't even let herself because of _you_. She's hung up on the future or like the possibility of one with _you_ 'til there's an actual divorce."

"I find that hard to believe since she was hiding my _son_!" Finn's yell garnered the attention of several families and nurses. He shrugged and sighed, mouthing an apology to the apparently offended world-at-large, and sat down.

"Man, look…you have really have no idea what the hell has been going on. He's sick; like _really_ sick and Rachel's so focused on all of it that nothing else matters to her anymore. After a year of that and a year of you ignoring her and making her feel like shit on top of all that, she kinda didn't try anymore 'cause she didn't need the extra worry. Yea, I knew you needed to see him; that's why I sent you the text."

Finn's head snapped up. For the first time, he saw the exhaustion, sadness, and guilt on his ex-friend's face.

"How…how sick is _really sick_?" It sounded like someone else entirely asking the question. It felt like his voice but _not_ his voice because he didn't even recognize the words when they were put together in that order. Words like _son_ and feelings like _worry_ weren't…he couldn't catch up to everything that was going on. He was so far behind.

"He…well, they don't think…he isn't gonna las…last much longer and…and…" Puck stammered, slowly breaking down in front of Finn. "…and I love him…he…he's my…"

Finn couldn't say anything about it and he wasn't sure he even knew_ how_ to deal with any of it as Puck raised his hand to his bowed face and tucked his thumb in the corner of one eye with the rest of his fingers hiding the other eye entirely. In all the years Finn had known Puck, he had never seen the guy show _any_ deep emotion but here he was now, bawling like a hurt child.

"I…I need to see him." He finally choked the words out, the plea and the certainty rolling together after what felt like a hundred years had passed.

Puck kept his hand on his face but flipped a thumb over his shoulder. "In there; Rachel's with him. Don't…don't give her shit right now…she's literally hanging by a thread."

Finn turned to walk towards the door but stopped short.

He didn't even know Caleb's full name.

"What is his name?"

"Who, Caleb?" Puck asked, spinning around.

"His _whole_ name. Does he have a middle name?"

"Yea; it's Frederick. Rachel was gonna put it as his first name, but I told her he'd get his ass kicked every day, so she agreed to change it up."

"Caleb Frederick," Finn breathed out. It took him a second, but he let out a strangled laugh. She had given their son his initials. He looked over at Puck, who just gave him curt nod. "We aren't done here, you know."

"Yea, I know. Just go now and we'll..." Puck shrugged, his shoulder just sagging more than anything else.

Finn let out a deep breath, one he didn't even realize he was holding in, and stepped into the cool room. It was darkened, making the various colored lights on the machines along the wall stand out a little more. It was virtually silent and still, too, the only sounds the beeping of machines. He felt his heart slam against his chest when he saw Rachel curled on the bed next to a small, pale little boy attached to monitors and breathing machines. He wanted to cry, to scream, to kick or hit something, but his heart was lodged in his throat. He wanted to run over and pull them both into a tight embrace and never let go, but he felt like another step would be his last and he would just fall.

She either sensed him or heard the door shut behind him because her eyes immediately opened and locked onto to his.

"Wh…what are you…do…" She stammered softly before glancing down at her sleeping son the said in barely a whisper, "I…I'm sorry. So, so sorry…I…" She climbed out of the bed and stepped towards him as her eyes filled with tears and her face crumbled.

He wanted to be angry but he couldn't seem to find it. He _deserved_ to be angry at the very least. She'd kept his child—his_ sick_ child—from him. He wanted to remember what he'd felt like when he figured it out: the feeling of betrayal that had been a million times more painful than when he thought she had cheated, the uncertainty and disbelief she had actually _done_ it. Then he saw her so utterly broken and terrified, and he couldn't remember. There wasn't any anger or betrayal or suspicion. There was just pain and sadness and a deep, sinking feeling turning into a hollow ache. He was getting his wish to feel numb again just when he was looking to feel something. He needed the guidance so he would know what to do with the heartbreak etched on her beautiful face. He wondered why he hadn't noticed her exhaustion before. Why didn't he see the pain in her eyes?

If he was being brutally honest with himself, it was because he hadn't cared to look. He'd been too busy trying to mask his own issues to see hers, even though they were woven into the way she moved.

He shook his head and walked toward the small bed, blinking several times to clear his eyes of the standing water. Where exactly had _that_ come from? He had tears rolling down his cheeks once he reached her and cupped her face in his hand.

"Stop, we…we will deal with all the apologies and our crap later, but…but right now…I…I need to see him."

Rachel nodded and blinked back her tears. "He…he ummm, they gave him something to sleep, so he wouldn't exert himself. His…his heart isn't strong enough anymore, even though I know it's capable of more love than I ever thought humanly possible and... He…he…he needs a new one and I can't give him mine…I tried, I told them I didn't need it if he wasn't…but…but they wouldn't do it. I begged them Finn, I really did. I…offered to do it myself, because…I don't need it without him. He…he _is_ my heart and they don't understand. Why? Why don't they understand?" She asked imploringly.

He shook his head, blinking back the burning tears, swallowing the words he couldn't find, unable to answer her question. He wasn't even sure he could _speak_.

"He's just the most amazing…and…and _perfect_ little boy and he deserves to live a hundred years and I… don't want to without him. I can't…I _can't_ live without him. Why doesn't anyone understand?" She cried and he couldn't do anything but kiss her forehead and pull her against him, their son lying silently behind them.

He didn't even know the little boy, but somehow…somehow he kind of got what she was saying. This sweet child meant _everything_. He was everything good between them. And Finn would never even get to _talk_ to him. He got what she was saying even if he didn't understand what this was going to feel like when the shock and the numbness wore off.

"I…I understand. God…I…" He breathed into her hair, holding her as tightly as he could while she sobbed and trembled in his arms. His own breath jerked from his body irregularly, at this point just another thing that was out of his control.

He didn't know how to do any of it, didn't know what the next minute or hour or day could bring any more than he knew what the last five years had actually done to any of them. He knew there was a lot to figure out and to feel, but he couldn't even go there. It was just not possible. There was only one thing in his hands right now, and that was literally the pieces of Rachel that were clinging to his shirt and begging him to _do _something he couldn't do because he had no idea what was coming. He only knew that no matter what happened next, they needed each other in this moment.

The rest would just have to wait.


	9. Chapter 9

Again we want to thank everyone for all of the feedback and support for our story. It has been a bumpy ride and can't say it is going to improve. Fore warning, might need a box of tissues. Again, thank you and remember just 1 chapter left.

Disclaimer: We do not claim to own Glee, just our own insanity

Rated: T

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><p>"Tell me about him," Finn said softly, stroking Caleb's silky brown hair from his spot in the chair next to the bed.<p>

Rachel looked up at him from where she sat against the wall, on the floor (resisting the urge to crawl right into the bed with the boy even though it was a children's bed and _far_ too small.) She smiled sadly, her eyes still shimmering with fresh tears. "Wh…what do you want to know?" She whispered back. As long as there was a staccato beep from the heart monitor, she could breathe. She was calmed by its now-familiar presence.

"I…I don't know. What did—_does_—he like to do?"

Rachel smiled gratefully at his change of tense. Her son was still alive; he would always be present to her, even when he was sleeping.

"He...he loves music," she said brightly, her tone picking up even as she kept her voice low.

"Well, you're a musical _genius_ so it's not like _that's_ a shock," he blurted out quickly.

"Thank you, but he doesn't sing. He can't, actually—which is kind of funny. He just listens to _everything_; he has very eclectic tastes. I guess part of that is because Noah used to bring by all kinds of mixes and play them for me—for us—those first couple years when I didn't know what to do with myself in the hospital. I…" she paused when she saw the pained expression on his face. "I…I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned him."

He looked down at the sleeping child. "No, I…I…he was there for you when I wasn't, so I…it just hurts. I'm just catching up. I don't…" he cleared his throat a little and tried to swallow down his doubt and all the other stuff he was feeling. "…I don't get how all this happened like it did," he replied sadly, his voice cracking more with each word. He hadn't wanted to bring it up, but it wasn't something that would go away either.

"I didn't _mean_ for any of this to happen. When I found out I was pregnant, you were working those insane hours and I had just landed that role. Things were _so_ chaotic and I figured I would hold off on telling you until I had come to terms with the pregnancy."

"How long did you know?" It was easier to imagine she had just barely found out that night with Puck, when he had taken a few seconds to think about it. It just made it worse to think she could've _chosen_ not to say anything, to think she had maybe held her tongue when he was around on purpose because she didn't want to tell him.

Rachel shrugged slightly. "A few weeks. I took a home test after I realized I was late and the morning sickness kicked in fairly quickly. I didn't know what to do, so I went to the doctor, who confirmed the pregnancy. I hadn't seen you for more than a few minutes here and there for a few weeks and our schedules never seemed to line up."

"There are times to _force_ it," he argued softly. He didn't want to wake their son—he turned the word over in his head again because he couldn't even believe he had a _son_—but at the same time, he knew it really made no difference. The small boy was medically sedated. Not only did he have to get used to the word _son_, but…well. Then there was the rest of it. "You should've found a way to tell me and you know it."

"I know, but there were other things, Finn. I came by your office after my trip to the doctor and…and well…I was told you were too _busy_."

"What are you talking about?" He gasped out, his head starting to spin a little. "I was _never_ too busy for you and they all…everyone _knew_ that and…they…"

Rachel smiled sadly and looked down at the ground. "She was a redhead."

He shook his head in confusion. "Who are you talking about?"

She glanced up at him and sniffled softly. "The woman you were with that day—she was a redhead."

"Rachel, I wasn't _ever_ with a redhead. You seriously aren't making any sense."

She cleared her throat a little and her voice was stronger, more certain. "She said her name was Margo and the two of you had grown _really close_. She made it a point to come see me in the lobby that day after my doctor's appointment. I came by with the test results and to see what you wanted to do about it, but then I saw the two of you and I guess she saw me too. She met me in the lobby and said her name was Margo and she demanded to know who I was since I was obviously looking at the man she was 'with'. That's how she said it."

"You…you talked to Margo? She…she was slightly obsessed with me, I guess, but I never mentioned it 'cause she was no one important and I didn't want to worry you and...and I had _no idea_ she spoke with you. I never…" His mind was spinning now, the pieces of him were stirring around and around and he was afraid the spinning would toss them everywhere and he wouldn't be able to get them back.

Rachel wiped her eyes and inhaled a deep, steady breath. "I guess we both assumed the worst, didn't we? The difference between us was my willingness to stick it out. I knew men who married young probably had those sorts of 'what if' moments and I figured _she_ was _yours_ but…but I also knew we were meant to be. Why else would it all have happened so fast? I mean, how many people get married like we did, right? That had to mean we were something special, I…" She lowered her face in her hands.

"I…I don't know. I…thought we were too, but…but is it supposed to be _this hard_ if you really love someone? I…"

Rachel looked up at him sadly. "I do love you," she whispered hoarsely. "I just don't think…I honestly don't know what to think anymore." She looked around the room. "Maybe all this is my punishment for being so reckless and impulsive in the first place."

"Don't say that," he pleaded in a whisper.

"Don't say _what_? That I am getting what I deserve? Because that's what it feels like. My son is _dying_, Finn. As much as I want to believe a miracle will happen, I understand the reality here. I have dealt with it for the past four years and I know…I just...He…he's already had three open-heart surgeries. He has suffered enough and maybe I didn't do enough while I was pregnant to stop it. I was so sick and I couldn't hold anything down almost the whole time. At one point, used IV lines and a stomach pump just to feed me. I…I wasn't strong enough. I _kept_ him from you without even realizing how cruel I was being. It just hurt so much every time you slammed the figurative door in my face and I gave up pretty quickly. Then, when I finally get up the courage to come to you—the only person who could help—it was too late and now it's all blown up in my face. I lost_ you_ five years ago and now I'll lose my—our—son. Then again, maybe I never really had you to begin with."

He stopped for a minute and then lowered himself to the ground to face her.

"What does that even mean, you 'never really had me to begin with'? We were married…hell, we still _are_ married."

"Yes, and we knew each other for twelve whole hours before we decided to run off together. We knew _nothing_ about each other beyond having amazing sex and _who does that_? Who has sex with someone within a few hours of meeting them? Everything was so rushed and so crazy. We moved into that tiny apartment with Noah and could barely make rent, so I worked downstairs while you studied. Then you found the internship and yes, things were good for a while, but then…then they went so horribly bad and we didn't know each other well enough to handle those ups and downs."

"That's not true," he protested softly. He wasn't even sure at this point what he was begging for, but he knew he was fighting the urge to take her hand. "Yes, it happened _so_ fast, but that made it even more amazing. I knew everything I needed to know because I knew I was in love with you."

"Then why was it so easy to push me away? Why was it so easy for you to give up without a fight? You say I should have told you, and perhaps you're right, but no one here is totally innocent. You could have found me anytime between then and now; I wasn't hiding."

He swallowed hard. He couldn't fight that logic. "I didn't want to find you," he said softly. "I didn't think I could even stand to look at you."

She nodded and pushed herself off the floor in one, fluid motion. "Well, I guess that pretty much sums it all up then, doesn't it? I…I am really sorry for how everything turned out, but…but I think you should _go_."

He scrambled to his feet, feeling like even that was something she did better than him. She was so cool, so composed. He was such a mess he couldn't even stand up on his own. "You can't _kick me out_ of here! You've kept me away from him for his whole life. Let me have the last few moments with him, however long I can because he's _my son_."

"But see…he isn't your son," she protested, and he flinched in response.

"Yes…how can you…what…"

She shook her head sadly and rubbed her hand over her forehead. "He may be yours biologically, but…but not yours in the sense that he's _Noah's_. I…I know that I created this situation by not being strong enough to tell you after you broke me down to nothing, but…but Noah took care of me. He took care of Caleb when no one else would. My Dads helped where they could but I didn't qualify under their insurance and Caleb needed so much medical care and he…he put his name on the birth certificate and took Caleb home when I…when I was bedridden from delivery complications. _He _got up when Caleb needed medication. _He_ held Caleb's hand and told him everything was going to be okay. _He_ was the one who held me when I fell apart time and time again and you know what? I never gave him an ounce of encouragement or really even adequate appreciation. He _knew _I was forever tied to you. He knew that…that he could never fill your shoes, but he was _there_ for _everything_ and now…it should be him in here to say goodbye. I am sorry; this isn't fair to you and I can't take any of it back, but…"

"Rach, please…" he pleaded. "Don't do this. I deserve to be here…I am his _father_."

"By blood; but you said it yourself: you don't know anything about him."

So much for distance; he was begging now and he grabbed her hands tightly.

"Then _tell _me. Tell me everything about him so I can at least say I knew his favorite color or if he's clumsy like me, or if he likes chocolate ice cream and…please…you _owe_ this to me. Don't make me miss anything else," he begged in a voice so weak he didn't even recognize it.

She didn't even hesitate when she spoke. "He _loves_ chocolate ice cream and he's beyond clumsy; he could trip over his own feet while he's standing still. His…his favorite color is blue and he loves the rain the most. He sits by the window for hours just watching sometimes. He…he loves being outside, even if he can't really run around for long. He…he loves everyone he meets and no one can resist him. He…he has your smile and for so long, I cried when he smiled at me. He used to wrap his arms around my neck and snuggle against me when I cried and he told me one time he didn't have to smile anymore if it made me sad and then I just cried more. He…he likes it when I play with his hair and he…he always says 'I love you, mommy' before bed…except _this_ time." She let out a breath and her voice wavered dangerously. "This time I wasn't here, so…so he didn't get to say it and I didn't get to hear it and…and now…now I may never get to hear his sweet little voice say 'mama' or 'hug me' because I was with _you_ and not here where I _belong_. I…" she trailed off. She finally shattered in front of him, falling down to the ground. There were no more words, no breaks in sobs, no end in sight to the gut-wrenching sadness. She was coming apart, even as she held her arms around herself.

He carefully crouched down and lifted her into his lap. "I'm sorry. I, should have listened when you begged me to. I, was so damaged and…and now…God I…" He whispered roughly, crying openly and struggling to get the words out over the lump in his throat.

It was a while before she spoke, and her throat sounded raw. She still seemed to have a hard time; her composure was gone. "When…when they said he wouldn't get better, I…I actually wished I had never met you because if I hadn't then he wouldn't have been born at all. He wouldn't have suffered and I wouldn't have felt so empty and broken. I…I fought it for so long, telling everyone he was going to be okay, but…he isn't. He…isn't going to wake up this time and open his beautiful brown eyes to tell me not to cry. I…I wasn't here to say goodbye to him. What kind of mother am I?"

"Rach, don't do this to yourself…you're an amazing mother. I am sure of it and…and he knows you love him. How could he not? You wear your feelings on your sleeve and you love with your whole heart."

She shook her head. "I didn't get to say goodbye. He won't ever hear me sing to him or tell him a story again. He loved my stories, you know. Noah tried to tell him bedtime stories all the time, but he…he never wanted them and he never let Noah get away with sneaking them in," she said, sounding totally broken.

"What were your stories about?" It wasn't just Caleb he wanted to know about, and he honestly found it strange when he realized the urge he had to get to know _them_ was as much about _her_, especially her as a mom, as it was about the little boy in the bed behind them.

Rachel looked up at him through her tear-drenched lashes before breaking down into sobs again.

"_You_; they were always about you and me and everything our life was supposed to be. He…he loved…"

"He loved what?" He choked out as she trembled in his lap.

"You…he loved you. He wanted to be just like the hero in my stories."

He pressed his lips to the crown of her head. He was glad Caleb had even known _anything_ about him, even if it wasn't any more than fiction.

"I'm no hero."

He murmured his low words against her hair, inhaling the fragrance, remembering how they used to sit and talk in the same position for hours on end. He thought it was probably one of his favorite memories, had been one of his favorite things they did.

"Well, you are to him and…and I would like him to keep that image of you. Is that okay?" she said softly, turning her head slightly so she could look up at him.

He should have said no; should've pointed out there was no reason to offer Caleb false hope that somehow he would be saved by his fairytale hero, but he couldn't say no to that look in her eyes. Her eyes were _always_ his downfall.

_So open, so honest…maybe if he had just looked into them that day he would have seen the truth and they wouldn't be here. _

"I…okay. If that's what you want."

She nodded and scooted out of his embrace, then headed towards the door. His head was swimming as one emotion bled into the other, making it impossible to separate his well-deserved anger from her sadness, or from their love for one another and their dying child. It was beyond overwhelming; if yesterday anyone had asked what he was would be doing now, this wouldn't have even made the top one hundred. He not only someone's husband again, in a way, but he was also a father and someone's hero. He didn't deserve to be.

He had to admit, he almost immediately feared she hadn't told Caleb anything about him. He found himself wanting Caleb to know _something _about him, wanting the boy to know that Puck wasn't his father. He wasn't relieved to know there was an in-between, though. It kind of made him want to crawl out of his own skin to realize how much time he had wasted—and it was all measured in a lifetime. He would never get these last five years back. They were coming to an end.

He quickly stood, scrambling for any sort of control, and saw Rachel lingering in the doorway and looking at the bed and looking at Caleb.

_Where was she going?_

"Wait, why…where are you going?" he stammered. He needed her in the room with him—that much was just obvious.

"I'm going to give you some privacy; that's what you asked me for." He looked between the bed where his son was struggling to live and back towards Rachel, who looked as if she was barely holding on herself. He couldn't do this alone…without her. As much as he hated the way it felt to picture it, he knew she couldn't do it alone either and he understood what Puck had really done for her—for all of them. None of them needed to deal with this alone; thank God for small favors.

"Please don't go. I…I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be this guy."

She wiped away a few stray tears but didn't step toward him yet. "You're going to have to learn fast."

He sighed. "No. I just…someone else knows how to be this guy. You should go get him." He wiped at his cheeks with his knuckle and he sniffled a little. "Go get him and…and…" he shrugged a little. "You're right—he_ should_ be here. I'll try not to punch him again."

She raised an eyebrow. "_Again_?"

"I already told you I don't even know what I'm doing," he said. He turned to face back toward the bed. "What am I supposed to say? I…I don't…" He stammered his eyes brimming with fresh tears. _God, he had buried all of his emotions for years and now…now he couldn't keep them down anymore._

"Tell him how much you like chocolate ice cream, so much so that you used to sneak downstairs to Doug's kitchen and steal it in the middle of the night."

"If I remember correctly you didn't mind it so much when I brought up your vegan stuff," he muttered in a low voice, casting one raised-eyebrow glance over his shoulder. Rachel laughed softly.

"Yes well, I was just suggesting telling him things that you have in common. Another one is you both love…well…_loved_ to annoy me with the incessant tapping on _everything_." He looked over at his sleeping son and back to Rachel whose eyes were filling with unshed tears and he knew his own mirrored hers. At least something of his carried through even if he wasn't there to raise him.

"He…he does that too?"

Rachel rolled her eyes teasingly. "Does he do that? He taps on everything, and I mean _everything_, with anything; if he can't find something to tap with, he uses his hands. His favorite, though, are wooden spoons. Noah tried to get him interested in the guitar, but no—he insisted on tapping."

"It's _drumming_ Rach; not tapping," he replied with a shrug. "I woulda taught him…I mean, if I had…" Rachel nodded and their gentle playfulness was replaced with sullenness again.

"I know you would have." She swallowed hard unable to meet his gaze. "I know you would have taught him a lot, if…well…"she trailed off. She shrugged and tucked her hands into her jeans pockets. "But you can at least _tell_ him what you want to. I have to believe he'll hear you." She issued another sniffle and motioned over her shoulder. "I'm going to get Noah. Whatever you say will be just between you and him. But you…you _could_ tell him that we were happy once and…and he was a product of that…" She paused when he looked over his shoulder, their eyes immediately locking. He sucked in a breath, the last one he thought he had left in his body as he began falling and drowning in her gaze when she kept talking. "We…we were happy once right? I…I didn't make that up in my head to…"

He blew out a breath and managed to drag his eyes away from her, knowing she needed to go get Noah because it wasn't like there was a lot of time. He could feel the urgency of the moment weighing down on him, choking him and strangling everything he had ever thought he knew.

"You didn't make it up," he replied gruffly. He moved toward the bed and she took that as her cue to go.

He could _feel_ it when she left just like he could feel everything else. When she was gone, he could breathe a little. He reveled in that, just a little, took a big, deep breath and stepped forward all the way, letting his hand rest on Caleb's head and linger in Caleb's hair.

He didn't say anything, but his mind chanted his son's name over and over again, turning it over and getting familiar with it—branding it inside him. He knew he wouldn't forget anything he saw. There was something of Rachel in the curve of the boyish cheekbone, but something of _him_ in the jaw and mouth.

"I loved you both," he breathed simply, watching his fingers displace the shaggy hair above Caleb's ear.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, just staring at the beautiful and fragile child before she reentered the small room. He could hear Noah stepping into the room, too.

Rachel stepped close enough to the bed she could lightly stroke Caleb's soft cheek. Finn hadn't ever seen anything so heartbreaking in his life. She looked so lost and so broken—a shell of the woman he once knew. Her attention was totally on her sleeping boy; his attention was entirely on her. She leaned into him when he tentatively wrapped his arm over her shoulders. She cautiously leaned her head against him, as if waiting for him to push her away, but he couldn't and he didn't want to. He could admit that to himself now.

"I…I should hate you, but…but I don't…I can't," he choked out, like he was answering the question he knew was in her head. And he was speaking as much to Noah, who remained silently on the other side of Caleb's bed, as he was to Rachel. She nodded slightly.

"I know… and if the roles were reversed…" she started, but she couldn't get the words all the way out and he picked up where she stopped.

"You wouldn't have hated me either." He said certainly, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

"No, no I wouldn't." She agreed.

Noah dropped down to sit on the tiny bed beside Caleb, barely fitting even one leg on the small bedside. He wasn't paying attention to their conversation at all, and Finn realized they were all just too_ tired _to be mad or sad or anything—it would come later. For now they were just resigned to what was coming.

"I…what happens now?" She asked eventually, her voice cracking with uncertainty. He reached out and stroked their son's head, then pressed his lips to her hair once more.

"I…I don't know. I…we can't ever go back."

"No, we can't."

He made up his mind and spoke the words in the same instant. "And, as much as I _don't_ hate you…I…I just can't… we're not going to survive this together. I can't."

She seemed as resolute as he did. "No. There's just too much damage," she whispered, as if the words hurt to speak.

He tightened his arms around as she leaned her body against his, clinging to her for this one last time, even if it was full of despair. They were together, even if just for the moment; they were the same two people who met, fell in love, and promised forever to each other…even if forever ended eventually. Now, they stood together in utter silence as they watched the last thing that bonded them together fade away into nothingness.


	10. Chapter 10

Well here it is; the concluding chapter of All the Wrong Things on Fire. On behalf of Jann and myself we would like to thank you all for sticking with us through this emotional journey. We truly hope you 'enjoyed' the ride. Again, thank you to all who read, reviewed, alerted and/or subscribed, your support means so much to us. We would love to hear your thoughts on this last update. There will be an epilogue posted in the near future. As always, a special thank you to our lovely betas.

Disclaimer: We do not own Glee.

Rated: T for language

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><p>"Hey, I…I didn't know you would be here," he said softly from behind her.<p>

Rachel had known he was there even before he said a word. She suspected she would always know, and in a way she hated it. How was she supposed to move forward when she carried so many old habits forward or when she let him keep her tied to the past?

She looked down at the manicured green grass and let out a soft sigh. "I have been here every afternoon for the past however many months, but…but I can go if you would rather be alone with… him."

"Three and no!" He called, almost desperately, causing her to look up at him with a scowl. He had put his hands out like he was going to stop her from moving, but he dropped one uselessly to his side and pressed the other against his forehead. "No, I..I just meant it would be nice to have someone to sit with."

Rachel patted the grassy spot next to her. He sat down silently and just stared at the fairly new stone. It had taken forever; he'd been once or twice before, to the empty spot with the tiny marker in the ground, and had heard she'd sent the placard back at least twice before the one he saw now was placed.

"You, ummmm…you picked a beautiful one. I mean, not that there is ever a _beautiful _grave or whatever, but…" Rachel reached over without looking at him and fumbled to get her hand in his.

"I understand. You don't have to try and make small talk with me; it's okay."

He nodded and wiped away the slow trickle of tears that trailed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I wasn't at the funeral. It…it was all too just…and…and you had Puck and I felt like there wasn't a place for me. But thank you for well…you know…just thanks."

Rachel smiled sadly. "I…_we_ missed you there, but I understood. It was hard on all of us, but probably most of all on _you_."

He squeezed her hand. "I started seeing a therapist."

She looked over at him and smiled. Her words and voice were compassionate and calm. "That's great, Finn. I, I think we could _all _benefit from some."

He reached out and ran his fingers across the engraved name. Mixed in with all the stuff he felt like he owed her, he was so grateful his son's stone reflected his name. It made the compromise, the other name, seem like nothing at all and maybe even the least he could've agreed to.

_Caleb Frederick Noah Hudson_

"Well, I figured it was about time I started actually dealing with my issues, not just the ones related to our son's death. I…I've learned a lot about myself and…well, I'm trying to change a lot of things I don't like."

Rachel turned slightly and tightened her hold on his hand that rested in his lap.

"You're amazing; I hope you aren't trying change things just because of what happened. It was as much, maybe _more so,_ my fault that everything fell apart."

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you for saying that, but…but my issues go way deeper than what has happened over the past few months. Something you said in the hospital really hit me hard when I got back."

"What?" She asked and he felt suddenly felt like they were the only two people in the world. She could always make him feel like the most important person.

"You asked me, if we loved each other so much, how was it so easy for me to push you away."

"And have you figured that out yet?" She asked and he could see hope mixed with sadness in her glassy eyes.

"Well, the thing I've learned there is that I never _really_ got away. I…held the divorce over your head because I…couldn't really let you go, but at the same time I didn't want to let you hurt me again, so…so I made it so you couldn't go either."

"Sounds really unhealthy."

He shrugged and turned back towards the marble stone. "It wasn't; which is why I finally filed for the divorce. It wasn't fair to either of us." Rachel smiled tightly and nodded. He took a deep breath, part for courage and part because his lungs were burning from almost holding his breath while he talked to her, then he reached out to trace his finger along her jaw and turn her face toward him. "Why haven't you signed them?"

Rachel let out a broken sigh and used her free hand to swipe at the tears on her face. She sniffled. "I…I don't know. I just couldn't. I know you want the divorce and…"

He looked at her with wide eyes. His voice had been low and strong until it broke on his disbelief.

"What are you talking about? It's _your_ freedom, not mine. You and…" he swallowed hard and fought down the wave of nausea that came riding in on the tide of his words. "You and Puck can move forward and…" He just _couldn't_ and he trailed off, letting the word dangle on his shrug while he looked around the serene cemetery. "Where is he, anyway?"

"I'm not exactly certain; most likely, he's getting settled into his new apartment in Los Angeles."

"Wait… what? I thought you two would…"

_As soon as he choked out her name from the den she knew he had found it. It wasn't as if she was trying to hide it. In fact, she had almost forgotten it was buried deep beneath her piles of ungraded term papers. She sighed, she did say almost. It had arrived by courier three days after Caleb's funeral and she wasn't ready to deal with that on top of losing her son forever, so she put it aside. She would get to it tomorrow. At least that is what she told herself, but tomorrow turned into the next day, then the next week, and now finally, the next month. _

_It wasn't as if she didn't know it was coming. He had said at the hospital in no uncertain terms that there was no way they would come out of the situation together, but, it was the finality of the papers that made her truly rethink everything. Now, as she waited at the kitchen table for the man who had given her everything without any conditions, she had no idea how she was supposed to explain that she was nothing more than a selfish girl who couldn't, no wouldn't give up the one man who she had given everything to, to the man who wanted nothing more to do the same for her. _

"_Rachel?" he said in a woosh of a breath, his voice cracking under the emotional strain and she knew he already knew what she had come to terms with, "How long have you had this?" She looked down at her hands, playing with the metal bracelet that always adorned her wrist. He didn't even ask what it was. She figured they were past the point of feigning innocence. _

"_I…" she paused and let out a ragged breath. It all just hurt so much. "It came right after Caleb's funeral. I was going to deal with it, but the time never seemed right and…" She knew she was grasping at straws and from the hardened look in his eyes he knew it too. _

"_Like hell you did. This…"He growled then paused as he waived the torn manila envelope, "This is everything we have been fucking waiting for. This…this is the key to our future and what? You thought you could just hide it and pretend?" She knew he was hurting and lashing out, but it didn't make the harshness of his biting words any less painful. She shook her head, wiping the fresh tears with the back of her hand. _

"_No, I…I wasn't trying to pretend Noah. I needed time to come to terms with everything and…and I am so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I hoped the feelings would go away and…" He walked around the tables and pulled her up to a standing position by her elbows. _

"_Tell me!" He barked angrily, but she could see the pain, hope and sadness in his eyes. When she didn't answer, couldn't answer, he gripped her shoulders a little tighter, still not hard enough to hurt her, just enough for her to feel his trembling fingers through the thin material of her dress. "Fucking tell me. You owe me the God Damned truth." When she looked away, unable to find the words that had been echoing through her head for a month, his voice dropped to a whisper as his hands fell from her body. "You still love him." His stated, not asked then stepped back, the envelope falling to the table. _

"_Please…please understand." She pled as she gripped the edge of the small wooden table, " I, I thought I could do this, I thought I was over him and then…then when we were together even given the horrible situation I…I knew I hadn't stopped. I tried Noah, I swear I did and he seemed to hate me at the beginning, which made it a little easier to bury my feelings, but…but when he…" She stopped mid-sentence and turned away. She couldn't tell him, about how intimate she and Finn had gotten, it would just kill him. _

"_When he what? You said you didn't…" _

"_I didn't. I mean he and I never…but, but we talked and reminisced and he…I know he loves me, deep down and…"_

"_And what? You think that he is going to take you back? You know he is a stubborn ass. He didn't even fucking show up to his son's funeral! He wants nothing to do with you!" When she winced Noah, closed the gap and cradled her face gently, all signs of hostility melted away, only adoration in his eyes, "but, I love you…I didn't plan on it, God, I never planned on it, but…but I fucking do okay and I suck at all the emotional shit, but we…you and I can have a fresh start. We can get the hell out of Philly, go to the west coast or something. I got an offer to manage a label, it is a shitty one, but a start and…" Rachel clasped her hands over his and rested her forehead against his. "But, you won't will you?" She shook her head slightly, blinking back the burning tears. _

"_I…I can't; even if he doesn't want anything to do with me. I…I don't feel the same way and you deserve to be loved by a woman who can give you her everything and…and my everything is already with him. I'm so sorry. I was so unfair to you and…and…" He stopped her mid-sentence as he pressed a light kiss to her forehead then stood up to full height. _

"_You didn't force me into anything. I…I am a big boy, so…it just fuckin hurts ya know?" She nodded. "So, ummm, I am gonna go grab some shit for tonight and will get the rest of my crap while you are at work." She let out a strangled sob and gripped his arm as he turned away from her. _

"_I…I love you…you know that right? You…you are my best friend. I can't lose you." He shook his head, but gave her hand a slight squeeze._

"_You could never lose me." _

Rachel covered his hand with hers and shook her head. He thought he was safe to breathe again. "He and I never were meant to be a couple. I…knew that from the beginning and well, he came to terms with it after we buried Caleb. I think he held out hope that I might be able to put the past behind me…put _you_ behind me…but deep down he always knew. He's my best friend and will always be because of what he did for me and…and for our son, but…he decided it was time to move on with his life. There were no hard feelings and I really am happy for him. He deserves happiness after everything I put him through."

"Rachel, he…he wasn't like, a _victim_ in all of this. He went along with it and he made choices, too. I, I mean, I _am_ grateful to him…" When Rachel's eyes widened, he let out a breathy laugh and changed what he'd been planning to say. "Yeah, another thing I learned in therapy. I'm still angry and hurt that he was a _father_ to _our_ child when I wasn't even _notified_. I also know that I played a huge part in how the situation unfolded. However, at the same time, he took care of you and Caleb when I failed you. He made sure you were safe and protected and for that…for that I will be forever in his debt, but…well, I do need to ask what _you're_ going to do now. I mean, I know you have the money I sent you at least but I..."

Rachel shook her head and pulled away. "I…I didn't keep the money Finn. I used part of it to pay for Caleb's funeral, but I donated the rest."

He stared at her in utter shock, paused for only a moment before he took her face in his hands.

"Why? Why would you do that? I _needed_ you to have that money. I…I had to provide something for you, even if I did it far too late."

"I…I am going to move in with my dads for a while because I just need some time. I have my Master's, so I am sure I can get a teaching job somewhere eventually. You aren't obligated to take care of me anymore."

"You are _my wife_; of course I'm obligated to take care of you—of course I _want_ to help and to do something for you."

Rachel let out a soft sob. "Not for much longer and I…I don't want your money. I…never did."

Her words cut through him like a knife. He knew he was the one who had finally broken down and actually filed for divorce; but hearing her hurt and hearing her say she didn't even want his financial support—the last thing he could offer—was the final straw before his last, worn thread of composure snapped.

"What do you want from me, Rachel?" He asked, begging her to just tell him _anything_. "I already lost my only son without even knowing him and now…now I'm trying to do the right things to ensure you are safe and happy and free to live whatever life you decide. Why can't you let me do that?"

She turned, pulled herself to her knees so she was in front of him and held his face in her hands for a change.

"Because I don't want it!" She whispered harshly. "Don't you get it? I…I never wanted it."

His eyes frantically searched hers. "What…what don't you want? Happiness? Security? What? Tell me what you do want and I will make sure you get it."

She shook her head and turned back to the grave site. "I never wanted my freedom; at least not freedom from _you_." He scooted closer to her and cautiously wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tightening his hold when she pressed herself against him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he let his fingertips brush over her hair. It was longer now, but still soft and beautiful and _hers_. So he loved it.

"You know, I never wanted it either."

She moved her hand up to grasp his fingers, and at first he thought he saw something from the tears he hadn't managed to keep very well-buried over the last three months. Then he realized it was actually a flash of metal and he dropped his head to see the bracelet she wore a little closer.

"Did you…when did you start wearing that again?" He asked.

"Well, one night, my husband brought me my very first swag bag," she said with a smile.

…_and he couldn't believe what was sitting in front of him. He'd been miserable all night, from the second he'd taken the women's bag over the men's bag. He'd held tight to the silk bag all night, even if it was bright pink and woven plaid with gold and black—so totally not like something a guy would carry. When anyone asked why he had it, he'd told them Rachel would be home waiting for him; some made fun of him for being whipped, some told him he was sweet (most of them with their own pink bag in hand), and some just looked surprised. _

_He'd been miserable because he really, really missed her. More than once, he'd caught himself looking around for her and then he'd caught sight of the bag sitting on the bar and remembered she wasn't there. The last minute change in rehearsal plans had made it impossible for her to come to the one work event of his she'd actually had space in her busy calendar for; sue him. He'd been more than a little disappointed. He was __**almost **__ashamed he'd pressed harder and fought with her before he left. He hoped she knew he didn't really mean it and he was just disappointed and sick of feeling alone even though he had a wife he adored._

_The sick feeling didn't get any better as he finished his scotch, so he set the glass back down on the bar and decided to just head home and hopefully she would wake him up when she rolled in from rehearsal. At least being in their bed, he'd be able to smell her—to have some proof she really existed somewhere besides a text message on the phone in his suitcoat._

_And as he looked over the coffee table in their apartment, he knew she was real. And he loved her just a little more. _

"_What's all this?" He asked._

"_Well…I know you were really disappointed I couldn't make it tonight," she began. He looked down at her black satin robe and the way it blended with the dark brown satin hair that flowed in curls down her back. She slid her hands up his chest, letting her fingertips rest on his jaw and tug his face toward her. Her robe fell open and he saw a flash of what was underneath. It made his mouth go a little dry; he thought he might know why the two glasses and the small bottle of wine were on the table. "So I thought we could at least have a nightcap." _

_He swallowed hard and held up the bag that was in his hand. "I brought you make-up sex—I mean… stuff. Make-up stuff." _

_She laughed a little and stepped away from him to take the bag he had. Of course, as soon as his hands were free, that meant they were free to wander over __**her. **__He slid the robe over her chest and away from her shoulder as she pulled the black drawstring ribbons apart, opening the bag so she could look inside. _

"_They just…this is the stuff they were giving away?" She asked in disbelief. _

"_Yeah," he said. "I heard something about jewelry and…" he let his fingers rub over the thin eternity band on her finger. "…well, it's been a while since I gave you jewelry so…" _

_Her smile was wide when she pulled out the long, thin velvet box. "I think I found the jewelry." _

"_Yeah?" He asked, letting his eyes look over her face. Maybe it was the gagging feeling of missing her, maybe it was the taunts from people echoing in his ears about how he should be living it up because he was about to be young, hot, and loaded; or maybe it was the everything right underneath him. "That's good, 'cause I think I hit the jackpot." _

_She pushed the now-open box toward his chest. "Will you help me put it on?" _

_He thought it was kinda cute how she couldn't actually take a compliment like that from him. _

"_Yeah…but I might have to work something out here. Like, for every one thing I put on you, I get to take off five things." _

"_I'm not even wearing five things including this," she said. He was fumbling with the clasp, but it didn't take him too long to connect it, even if working with the delicate, twisting chains of silver made him feel like his fingers were made of lead. _

_He took her hand and held it up so he could see the bracelet shining in the dull candlelight. _

"_I guess I win, then." _

"_I hope you're happy," she said. She went to her toes and pressed her mouth to his jaw, and yeah… yeah. He was happy. Happy to be home. Happy to just be hers. _

_Happy to be. _

It was the last moment he'd been really, really happy and he knew that now. That was another thing he'd learned in counseling.

She sniffed back some more tears. "We were happy once, right? And I hope, wherever he is, that he's happy now. I…I mean I…know they say good people go to a better place and he was the best person in the world, so…"

He kissed the top of her head to comfort her. "I think he's in the most amazing place—your heart. He will always be loved and protected and remembered for the perfect little boy that he was."

Rachel's body began to tremble in his arms before she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly. "I miss him so, _so _much."

"I know. I do, too," he agreed quietly. For once, he didn't need her to explain because in a lot of ways, he knew exactly how she felt. She nodded and he buried his face in her hair, both seeking the solace only the other could provide.

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><p>El Fin!<p> 


	11. Epilogue

Here is the final installment of All the Wrong Things on Fire. We want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read, review (we really do appreciate the feedback – good, bad or indifferent), alerted and/or subscribed. It has kept us motivated through this process. We hope you enjoy!

A special thank you to our betas who were with us every step of the way. Ali and Laura, you are both simply amazing!

Disclaimer: We do not nor have ever owned or claimed to own Glee; simply our insanity.

It has been a pleasure!

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><p><em>Epilogue – 5 years later<em>

He watched his daughter curiously as she laid her palm out flat, raking it over the grass that needed a good mowing. The bright child slapped her palm down and gave a squeaky little giggle that pierced the calm of the sunny afternoon in a way that made him uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to say something but he was beaten to it.

"Hey munchkin, we need to be quiet, okay? Remember our talk?" Her voice was quiet and even, just like always, and he was amazed one more time by how unruffled she always remained; it was the total opposite of him. And their daughter.

"I know, Mommy, but...it hurts when I'm quiet," she protested. She tilted her head toward him, her curly blonde ponytail drifting in the breeze. He fought the urge to tug on it like he so frequently did to get her all riled up. She'd done a good job keeping her dress clean and he knew it would be blamed on him if she got it all dirty.

Mothers of little girls are funny like that; the mother sitting with him was no exception.

He snorted a little and it drew sharp glances from both his girls. "What? Shit's funny," he replied in his most nonchalant voice.

Their eyes widened.

The little one said "Daddy, that's a naughty word!"

At the same time, her mother stood and, wiping invisible grass from her capri pants, said "Let's go for a walk. They'll be here soon so we won't need to go far." She shook her head at him and took the little girl's hand to lead her away. He tried not to laugh at the picture they painted, the carbon-copy mother and daughter strolling away. It seemed in times like this that the little girl's attitude was really the only genetic contribution he'd actually made. It was really unusual considering last time had been almost the opposite.

It wasn't long after that he caught a glimpse of last time approaching him where he still sat; she was as much opposite the other two girls as he was and he instantly relaxed as she shielded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun with her hand laid against her forehead.

"Good afternoon, Noah."

He half-squinted and half-smiled up at her. "Hi, Rachel."

"Sorry to be late." She brushed her skirt underneath her thighs and sat down next to him. "You know…I thought it would be easier after all this time and with all this…" she shrugged. "I still had to redo my makeup three times and I spent most of the morning crying."

"Well…I mean…easier than _what_?" He said. He propped his wrists on his knees, his posture all folded, and looked down at the headstone that was basically all that physically remained of their entire ordeal. "And who's to say _when_?"

"I've seen a few grief counselors and one rabbi who purported to have answers to both those questions."

"Yeah…I…." he shook his head. "I know you went about it all way different than I did."

"But was the way _you_ did it better?" She asked in a whisper. He could feel her eyes on him; he could still feel her glance after all this time because they were always tied together—no matter how long it had been since the time they were in the same place had passed—and she would always be something special to him. There was only one other person who could really understand everything he felt for her, even if it had all just faded into just a friendly sort of chapter in their current lives. He looked over at her but didn't answer.

"You look _so_ happy," she said. She bit her lip and looked away, and just… just beyond. She wasn't focused on anything specific, but she was just taking it all in.

He knew she had this spot memorized and he was actually pretty fucking glad he didn't live close so he didn't have it memorized, too. Of course he'd seen her here and there over the last several years, the "after" as she so frequently called it. It was mostly on Skype and in a few pictures, but he'd seen her.

"Yeah, well…so d'you." And he meant it. He took her in, his sweeping glance well-practiced at deducing someone into a category as soon as he laid eyes on them. Especially in the case of her, because he knew her so well. He'd seen her pushed beyond her limits—of joy, of sorrow…happiness, pain…and now he was seeing her after she'd bounced back; at least, as much as she ever would. "You do look kinda tired, though."

Her look at him and her dry laughter were really all the answer he needed and he ducked his head on a smile. "I just…it's like I can't get enough of anything. Sleep is right at the top of the list."

He fought the urge to smile wider. "You forget I know how you are with stuff like this."

She didn't fight the urge to smile as she bumped against his shoulder with her own. "I think Finn is wishing someone had told him."

"Eh- I'm sure he loves it all."

They looked up together at a faint noise and could see Finn walking up the path toward them, bouncing a tiny, brown-haired girl and saying something to her as he walked. Rachel's smile brightened, if that was even possible.

"Some parts more than others," she agreed.

"Yeah, well… he never really was one for early mornings." She let out a loud laugh and then pressed her hand to her mouth. He raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of the ring on her finger. "The least he coulda done is sprung for a new ring."

She looked over at him with a scowl that was just as much amused as it was irritated. "He certainly offered but…I don't know. There's something to be said for taking pieces of the past forward with you. They make the future more comfortable sometimes." She stood quickly and then reached a hand out to pull him up off the grass. (He didn't need the help. He took it anyway.)

Finn's eyes shifted away from the little girl clinging almost like a monkey to his body, his shirt gripped tightly in her tiny fists, and over to Rachel. "The next one is all yours. That was _nasty_."

Rachel just laughed, rolled her eyes, and reached out to take the baby, who smiled and dove for her with arms out. As she shifted the little one onto her hip, she turned back toward Puck.

"Noah Puckerman… meet Calista Faith Natalia Hudson."

His hands had found their way to his pockets immediately, but one of them came out to take her hand in his. (He knew having a daughter had changed him, all right? But really…universal appeal to women of all ages was nothing new to him.)

"God. She looks…." His eyes shifted from the baby, then to Rachel, then up to Finn. "She looks just like Caleb. Hey, Finn."

Finn nodded. "Puck." Suddenly the air thickened a little and it was like none of them could breathe easy; she needed this to be easier for all of them than it probably should be, so she cut the tension with the first lame joke she could think of.

She glanced quickly at Puck and then towards her husband then gasped. "Are you implying that my daughter looks like a _boy_?" Before Puck could banter in response, they were all suddenly distracted by the high-pitched squeal of a tiny tow-headed tornado barreling towards them, actually towards Rachel, with her grown carbon copy following suit. As soon as Rachel realized she was going to be the landing pad, she quickly handed Calista to Finn, who then took a cautious step backwards.

"AUNT RACHEL!" The toddler screamed as she launched herself into Rachel's crouched form and open arms with such force she nearly knocked them to the ground.

"Beth…what…what did I…tell…you?" Her mother said in between gasps when she finally caught up to her giggling daughter.

Beth looked up and widened her big green eyes and said awestruck, "Sorry mommy, but it's Aunt Rachel!" Before her mother could respond Rachel smiled, kissed the top of Beth's head, and then quickly rose to her feet, eliciting a groan of protest from the little girl.

With one hand intertwined with Beth's, Rachel extended her other. "It's okay Quinn; it is truly wonderful to finally meet you in person." Quinn smiled tightly as her eyes shifted towards Puck, who gave her a nod, before extending her hand cautiously.

"It is nice to meet you as well. I…I am sorry for Beth's behavior, she has just been so anxious…" Rachel shook her head and then crouched next to the bouncing girl.

"Please don't apologize. Beth was just excited and you know what?" Rachel said as she lowered her voice to a whisper, then redirected her gaze.

"What?" Beth asked back in the same hushed tone as if they were about to exchange a monumental secret.

Rachel glanced around quickly at the other three adults, than as her eyes glittered with mischief she said softly, "I have been just as excited to meet you!"

Beth's eyes widened even further and gasped "Really?"

Rachel nodded with a beaming smile. "But you know who was even _more_ excited?"

Beth shook her head and her blonde curls bounced back and forth. Rachel looked up towards Finn, who had slowly started to crouch down next to them, with Calista squirming in his arms. Beth looked towards her mother first and then her father for permission, inching her tiny hand towards the baby when they both nodded.

"It's okay; you can touch her," Finn said softly, sensing her uncertainty even when she had permission.

Beth nodded and then smiled brightly when Calista gripped her finger and seemed to smile. "Daddy she likes me!" Beth beamed proudly and gently shook her finger up and down, giggling as Calista gurgled and cooed.

Puck crouched down with them and ran his hand over Calista's hair, then smile at his daughter. "Course she does munchkin…you are like the _best_ girl in the whole world."

"Was Caleb the best boy in the whole world?" Beth asked innocently as she looked between Finn, Rachel, and Puck, who all shared the same expression (like maybe they'd just been kicked in the chest.) When they didn't reply, Quinn cleared her throat and slowly lowered herself to ground next to her confused and curious three-year-old. She steadied herself by stroking the girl's back.

"Baby, Daddy told you all about Cale—um, your brother…so…" Beth nodded and looked over her father, who was blinking fast like maybe there was something in his eye.

"I'm sorry Daddy, I didn't mean to make you sad. I…I just…you said I was just like him, so…I just…I…"the little girl stammered as the tears welled her in eyes; she didn't understand what she'd done wrong.

Puck just pulled her into a tight embrace, trying to formulate a coherent sentence and speak over the lump in his throat. "You…you are munchkin." He whispered brokenly, clinging to her like she was a lifeline. His teary eyes met Rachel's. She smiled sadly and leaned into Finn, who had wrapped his free arm around her just as like in the hospital room on this exact day five years prior.

"Maybe…maybe I should go and take Beth, so you all can have some time…" Quinn said softly as she reached for her daughter, "…this is a family thing and…we are intruding and…"

Puck shook his head and opened his mouth to speak but it was Finn's hoarse voice that echoed softly. "No…you… you aren't intruding. It's…we're…and you're…you're not…"

"Please stay," Rachel interrupted softly, yet firmly. "You…you would have been his …maybe his stepmother I guess? But either way, you're part of the family so you…please stay." She reached her hand out towards a now-crying Quinn.

"If…if you are sure, I…I feel like I know him. Puck talks about him every day, some days I forget that he isn't just living in another house, I…" She covered her mouth with a gasp and shook her head when she heard Rachel let out a soft sob. "I…I am so sorry, I…I wasn't…" Rachel nodded and then blinked, sending the tears down her face.

"I forget, too sometimes; then it hits me all over again that he isn't coming back and…" she said. She took a couple of deep breaths, then leaned over to press a kiss to Calista's soft hair. "…And then I hold my daughter and am grateful for the time I had with my little boy and…and it hurts a little less." Finn tightened his hold on Rachel's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly as she continued speaking softly. "If…if it's any consolation, I think he would have loved you, given the opportunity."

Quinn nodded, still in shock. "Thank you. I…I can't believe you are trying to make _me_ feel better."

Rachel shrugged with a small smile. "Well…" she looked over at Finn, communicating with her eyes. "That was kind of the purpose of this. That and a few other things."

Finn knew what she was saying and he nodded. Calista had dropped her head to his chest, though, so where he normally would've left her with her mother, he just stood. This whole thing was still just so…so unfamiliar to him, and keeping the sleepy, snuggly little girl against his chest, he thought, might make it easier for him to get even a few of the words he needed to say—words that were long overdue—off his chest. His motion when he stood up from the huddle around the grave, caught Puck's eye and he nodded off to the side, where a tree sat right along the walking pat that wasn't too far away. Puck just nodded and mumbled something to Quinn, kissing her cheek before he followed Finn. Finn had thought about squeezing Rachel's shoulder, but she was already mid-conversation with Beth and he didn't want to interrupt because he knew how much they'd both been looking forward to meeting for the first time.

Once they were sufficiently away from the girls and their conversation was private, Puck reached out and rubbed his palm over Calista's back. She pressed even further into Finn and her eyes drooped, the combination of her warm daddy and her back being rubbed just a little too strong for her to ignore.

"That's like the magic off-button," Finn joked, looking down at her.

"It really is somethin'," Puck said, continuing to rub her back. "She's just like him."

Finn sighed. "Does it suck? Rachel said no, but…but I don't think she could ever say being with her daughter sucks and…" he gave an awkward shrug. "I didn't know Caleb much in person so the only real…like…the only way I know when she's like him is 'cause you guys say and I've seen pictures."

Puck nodded. "I…it's good to know some parts of him are still around, you know? More than just what we remember, but like…like she's real. But I think if she was your son…well, it'd be different."

"I think Rachel was relieved we were going to have a girl," Finn breathed. It wasn't something they ever talked about. "Truth be told, so was I. I'm not, like…I don't know…second-guessing everything. I don't have to watch Rachel to make sure she's okay or…or whatever."

Puck nodded. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean. I mean… well…Beth wasn't…I didn't plan any of that. I can't say I really thought about it and I'm not sure I was relieved about any of the pregnant and baby bullshit. Like I was on fuckin' pins and needles the whole time, y'know?"

Finn snorted. "Understatement, dude. After…well…you already know Rachel had it rough again." He cleared his throat. "I mean, I just…I really understand how much I owe you now; for taking care of them when I…well, I totally let them down and that's on me and I just…I knew I owed you before but now I really know what it's like and you didn't have to do that but… but for whatever it's worth, thank you for doing it."

"I didn't do anything," Puck said flatly. "Nothin' you probably wouldn't have done if you woulda known anything."

"I didn't know because I didn't listen," Finn said flatly. "You didn't do just anything. You did everything. That's all there is to it, man. And then… then you let him have my name. You didn't have to do that either."

"Didja expect me to say no? I mean…she'd already made it clear where…" he looked away and then back at Finn with a shrug. "I already knew it was goin' back to how it should've been the whole time."

"Puck…" Finn sighed. "Just accept the fact that my whole family thinks you're a hero, dude. And this one?" He bounced the dozing baby gently once to make his point. "This one will think so, too. You don't really get a say in it, either."

"I'm not a hero," Puck said. He looked over at the girls, who were still chatting away even if it looked a little more intense. He slipped his hands into his pockets. "I'm just a lucky fuck-up."

"You and me both," Finn said. He cracked a small smile.

Rachel stared absently at the two men in the distance while Quinn walked Beth over to a nearby grassy area for her to play.

"Do you think they are going to be okay there, alone?" Quinn asked drawing Rachel from her thoughts.

"Oh, no, I think they are beyond bloodshed at this point. If anything I think they are on the verge of rebuilding their friendship."

Quinn sat down next to Rachel, her position mirroring hers. "And is that okay with you?" Quinn asked cautiously, quirking a brow as Rachel turned slightly to face her, "That they rebuild their relationship I mean?"

Slightly stunned, Rachel opened her mouth and closed it quickly, trying to formulate a proper response. "I…of course I want that more than anything. They were best friends before…"

"Before you?" Quinn said hotly then quickly covered her mouth with her trembling hand. "I…I am so sorry, I don't…I am not normally so adversarial." Rachel nodded slightly as she stared her curiously.

"Why are you so adversarial? I noticed it earlier when we first met and…and have I done something to cause you to dislike me?"

Quinn shook her head and lowered her gaze to the grass. "No, I…I suppose it is more of my own insecurities than an actual dislike." Rachel stilled Quinn's fingers which were haphazardly pulling at the overgrown grass.

"Is this about Noah and me because if it is, you have absolutely _nothing_ to be concerned about. He and I are…"

"Are connected." Quinn interrupted.

"Yes, but…"

"No buts, the two of you are connected in a way that I can never compete with and…and well, honestly it terrifies me." Rachel tried to respond, but Quinn continued, staring off in Puck's direction, "Beth and I love him so much and I know he loves us, but there is a piece of his heart that will always be yours and Caleb's. Beth doesn't see it yet, but he gets this wistful expression whenever he talks about you, Caleb and the life he had before…well, before and it hurts so much that I can't reach that part without seeming selfish…"She paused and met Rachel's compassionate gaze and added in a whisper, "…maybe I am simply selfish."

"No, listen, you aren't selfish, not in the slightest…" When Quinn looked away sniffing back tears, Rachel squeezed her hand and continued to speak, "…Noah loves you and you make him happy in a way that I never could."

"He loved you first." Quinn said softly wiping the fresh tears off her cheeks.

"Yes and no." When Quinn sighed Rachel laughed softly then glanced over at Beth who was catching imaginary butterflies. "I know you find this hard to believe, but, he was never happy with me."

"I do find that hard to believe given all of the stories he has told us." Quinn argued softly now watching her daughter in the distance.

"I won't lie and say we didn't have some wonderful moments together. We were raising a little boy together, a little boy that we both loved dearly, but at the same time we were constantly dealing with one crisis after another, living in chronic limbo and while yes, we developed a relationship of sorts, it was never one like what you two have. He and I didn't fit that way. I am not sure how else to explain it." Quinn let out a soft sigh and squeezed Rachel's hand.

"Yes, I…thank you. I seem to be thanking you a lot." Rachel nodded and then smiled as Beth danced in their direction.

"Well now it is my turn, thank you for giving him the family that I never could. Thank you for giving him _your everything._" Before Quinn could respond Beth plopped down between the two women.

"Aunt Rachel, when does Calista get to meet Caleb?" Rachel brushed off her skirt and stood, signaling Finn and Puck to rejoin them.

"Now…" As soon as Finn made his way to them Rachel lifted Calista from his arms, pausing to enjoy the feel of her daughter snuggling into her embrace, then extended her free hand towards Beth, "…are you ready to help me introduce Calista to her brother?" Beth wiped her grass covered hands and on her dress much to her mother's dismay but took Rachel's hand and followed her to the marble stone. Beth smiled at the stone and then up at Rachel who offered her a reassuring one in return. Rachel felt Finn behind her, his hands resting on her waist while his chin rested on her head. While Noah and Quinn silently stood on the other side of Beth hand in hand.

"You gonna be okay?" He whispered as Beth ran her tiny fingers across Caleb's name. She simply nodded, words escaped her. Beth was whispering something and giggling. She was _talking_ to him. As if she noticed she was caught Beth turned towards Calista who was now sleeping in Rachel's arms then towards her Dad.

"So, Calista, this is our brother Caleb. He is almost 10 and my mommy says he is with the angels 'cause he was too special for the world, but Daddy told me we can have a piece of him in our hearts, cause well, it is the _safest_ place _ever_. Now, you are a baby, so you don't know 'bout all the cool stuff he did, but I will make sure to tell you everything Daddy told me, which is _a lot_." She turned towards Puck and beamed when he gave her a 'thumbs up'. She straightened out her dress a bit and smiled at Quinn then back at Rachel, Calista and Finn before placing one hand on the marble stone and the other on Calista's foot (it was the closest she could reach) then said innocently, "And Caleb, this is our sister Calista…" She paused when the four adults gasped softly and Quinn knelt down next to her to correct her.

"No, let her keep going." Finn said, surprising the group, "It…it is just too confusing to explain and she…" he stopped and kissed his daughter's head, "let her finish." Puck nodded with a slight smile and then gestured for Beth who was rocking on the balls of her heels impatiently, _to finish_.

"Kay, so as I was sayin',"she drawled and Quinn scowled in Puck's direction.

"What?"

"You know what…we…we will discuss this later." Beth looked between her parents, rolled her eyes and then with a sigh spoke.

"'kay, Caleb, this is our sister Calista, your mommy just had her and she is the cutest baby ever. I pwomise to take care of her like a big sister is s'posed to. She's gonna know all 'bout you." Beth turned to face the adults beaming. "That good? Or should I talk more?"

Puck shook his head, scooped her in his arms and put his giggling daughter on his shoulders.

"That's good lil' bit. Ready to go eat?" Beth leaned down and whispered something in her father's ear causing him to stop walking. "Ummm, Beth wanted to know if you'd have dinner with us."

"We would love to, provided it's okay with you, Quinn?" Rachel replied over her shoulder while strapping Calista into the car seat.

"Yes, I would like that very much." Quinn replied glancing around realizing they had left Beth's bag at the site. "Puck, I forgot Beth's bag. I'll…"

"No, I'll get it, Quinn." Finn interjected then pressed a quick kiss to his daughter's head and one to his wife's. "Be right back."

"Thank you, Finn; it's right next to…" Quinn trailed off when Beth started laughing hysterically. As he pulled her off his shoulders, Puck eyed his daughter warily.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Ffff…fiinnn and Quuiinnn rhyme!"

"Elizabeth Rachel Puckerman, you…" Quinn scolded but froze when her 3 year old stopped and hiccupped.

"What? That shit's funny!" the giggling child protested openly. Rachel and Quinn both shot a look at Puck.

"Wha…hey!" He shrugged. "She's _right_, okay? Nothin' wrong with being honest?"

Rachel simply shook her head with a laugh as she watched Puck and Quinn argue as they put Beth in her booster before glancing back at Calista who was sleeping peacefully.

"Okay, so got the name of the restaurant…" Finn said as he climbed into the driver's seat, pausing when he saw Rachel just staring into the distance, "Everything okay?" She smiled then leaned over and kissed his cheek softly.

"Yes, in its own really screwed up way, everything is perfect." .


End file.
